


Liar, Liar

by royaltty



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Adoption, Anxiety Attacks, But David doesn't know why he's sad, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Camp Camp - Freeform, Child Abuse, Dark Humor, David is also sad, David takes antidepressants oh fuck, Depression, F/M, Gen, Gwen is a mom, Happy Ending, I made this at 3 am, I still don't know how to do tags, Implied Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Looks like a job for the Mystery Gang, Max has trauma, Max is very concerned, Max's real name is Maxwell in this one, Max-centric, Mental Illness, Mentions of Suicide, Mutual Pining, Not Maxvid you sick fucks, Oh My God, Panic Attacks, Season 2 finale crushed my soul, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Two sad boys crying in a hot tub five feet apart because they are sad, What Was I Thinking?, What are Tags?, dadvid, gwenvid - Freeform, lots of swearing, max is sad, please help him, spooky scary ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:45:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royaltty/pseuds/royaltty
Summary: "David, are you okay?" His lips finally permitted."No, Max," David hummed, eyes trailing to stare into the dark depths of Lake Lilac. "I don't think I am."





	1. lake lilac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're not alone, Max." They locked eyes; ocean green clashing with his own meadow green. Max knew now; David's smile wavered gently.
> 
> "Worry about yourself first, you tree-fucking piece of shit."

**THE scent of** coffee made his meadow green eyes snap open in a flash from when they had started to close in exhaustion. Or maybe it was the slightly refreshing breeze of Lake Lilac from the morning wind, fresh and crisp. Either way, it made his heart pulse momentarily and he became more aware of his surroundings. It was far too early. Far too early to fall asleep and far too late to be awake. Did Max care? A quick glance around his area told him no.

The sound of forest bugs’ periodic chirping was soothing to his ears and there was a soft ripple in the water in front of him. The moon was in the sky, displaying nothing but white light and heavenly glow on everything it cased upon. Spooky Island was looking significantly less spooky; the tall pine trees hoisted high into the sky and making deep and tall shadows across the large lake; the wind shaking the trees was peaceful, moving them in a quiet dance before picking up at intervals to a passionate foxtrot before returning; the moonlight splattering the grass there in bright whites and browns.

If Max looked at it close enough, he was quite sure he could see the distant flash of red and blue on the ground.

The mug in his hands did not belong to him and instead to Gwen, Camp Camp’s very unqualified co-counselor. It was a dark blue in color with a smack-on sticker of the Tardas which Max unfortunately understood was a reference to Doctor Who. It was half-empty with coffee with french vanilla cream that he had to bribe QM to get. The man had a very strange obsession with Neil’s hair and Max was the only candidate for the job, as he shared a tent with the taller boy.

Max considered this place and this some sort of routine, if that’s what he wanted to call it. At the peak start of one in the morning, Max would wake up automatically, make himself some coffee, and walk to the docks for some early morning thoughts. It was a truly relaxing time. No peace of his was disturbed and, despite himself not being in tune with nature, the view was breathtaking to look at. Maybe the world wasn’t so bad in a natural sense.

Then he would remember what he’s only seen in pictures of Africa and he would be thankful that Campbell picked a nice spot for this bullshit of a summer camp.

His left hand moved in a slow circle, making the liquid inside the mug swish with his movements. He raised his right hand to check his watch, sighing when he saw it blink at 02:30AM. It wasn’t his watch either, fully belonging to David. He stole it not only to tell the time, but because it had a crazy cool flashlight that burned his eyes whenever he flicked it on. David was strange. Max growled slightly at the thought of the man right now.

David was an ungodly piece of work in the world. He was tall as hell, and no, Max wasn’t short, he was of average height for a peak ten-year old, everyone else just had their height option all the way to the right. Standing straight, Max reached the middle of David's shorts in height. David was ginger, though he didn’t look it when he was in the shade, hair reduced to a slightly less eye-sore of red-brown umber. Only in direct and pure sunlight did it switch to way-too-much red. David, somehow, also did not sunburn, which is Satan’s work because he’s paler than Preston.

If Preston was white, then David was _white._

The one thing about David that Max didn’t fully comprehend was his mindset. David had a very friendly outward appearance, so much so that when Max first met him, he was about 87% sure David takes daily cocaine. But no, David was just that sad that he tries to make everything in a good light. Max never knew how much weight was on the man’s skinny ass shoulders, but it made him ponder things for a long time. David cared about all of them but in a different way. Not a teacher-student way but more of a father-figure way that had him angry and snappish to him. He’s never experienced it, but David knew exactly what to do and Max didn’t know.

He didn’t know and that’s what made him scared. David was happy, but so sad at the same time. When the male looked at him in the eye, ocean green eyes dead and lost and said the phrase he’d never forget: “That’s why I’m still trying. Because somebody _fucking_ has to”, he knew. He knew. Did he really? David cared about others; more often than not, Max finds himself looking at David a lot more in concern.

_David, are you okay?_ lingered on his caramel lips whenever he dared to willingly talk to the counselor. His pride always held his tongue with a noose however, and he would tell David to fuck off. David would gasp in horror and Max has recently noticed the way green eyes would flicker in pain.

Maybe it’s time to stop. Stop being you. Stop. Stop. _Stop._

 Max raised his hand to his black hair and attempted to run his hands through it, giving up halfway when it got stuck. He drank some of his coffee and sighed, grumbling inaudibly to himself at the scent of coffee-breath. Not today. He might stop soon. Not today. His red donned feet swung above the dark water, causing the dock to groan in annoyance. The back of his knees scratched against the hard and splintered wood despite him wearing jeans.

Lake Lilac was a scary thing to him and Max did not scare easy. Yes, they had a swimming activity only once this summer, but it was not at this exact location and instead further down the coast to the high side. Max knew how to swim pretty good, yes, but he still didn’t like water. It fucked up his fucked up hair and he hated pruney fingers. This part of the water was unknown to him. He couldn’t see at the bottom at the lake, even at the start of the dock where the lake started. He didn’t dare try and step in for fear of drowning.

Max wanted to die. He thought about it every day, but he’s seen pictures of people who have drowned and stayed in water and he has to say it’s extremely disgusting, so he doesn’t want to die by drowning. Or by fire or by disembowelment. He’d prefer suicide over anything. Just a quick gun to the mouth. He’s considered a noose, but those are a give and take. Sometimes it takes long and sometimes it’s instant.

He doesn’t want to be in pain when he dies. Just quick. Quick and easy, but damn he hates lakes. Fuck lakes. Maybe when he’s the prime age of fourteen he’ll kill himself so he has an excuse for being an edgy teenager who ‘thinks’ they have depression. Max has been depressed since eight.

He can’t wait to drift between his friends and family in the afterlife and see the regret on their faces once they would eventually learn.

The dock made a sudden eerie sound and Max felt even more suicidal when he felt the vibrations of footsteps on the old wood. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes as he tried to differentiate the figure. They were tall, so that debunked Dolph or Space Kid. He couldn’t spot the large monster hands of Neil or Nurf and they were far too skinny.

This was not his territory; he did not own the dock, but it felt right in his eyes to defend this place from someone. Max raised his chin. “Who’s there?” he asked in a raspy voice. The person paused for a moment, then continued walking towards him. “Not talking? Fine.”

Max turned his head. If they didn’t want to talk, that was fine. If they were a murderer, that was fine. He just wanted some damn peace and quiet. The dock continued to grumble and bend at the weight of a new person and Max’s fingers gently ran along the old wood in reassurance. He glanced back into the sky, noticing with slight pleasure that stars had started to shine brighter. They were moving in and out of his vision, blinking slowly at him in morse code that he did not understand.

It was so enchanting that Max had forgotten about the figure until he heard a final squeak from the dock and his green eyes roamed over his shoulder before he shoved his jacket sleeve down over the wrist watch. _“David?”_

There the counselor was, tall, gaze somewhat solemn, and in a plain Camp Camp tee and shorts. The man observed him for a moment before his lips quirked into a small smile (he wasn’t smiling before, Max noted briefly). “Hey there, Max,” said David in a quiet tone. It still carried that same amount of happy-go-lucky that Max was used to; he just assumed because it was night that David was being less loud. “What are you doing out here, young man?”

Max scowled and raised his mug. “Coffee. What about you, huh? I’m going to guess your weird fucking woodkin senses told you there was a kid missing from camp,” he said.

“Language,” scolded the man lightly. David placed his hands on his way-too-skinny hips and sighed as he stared across the lake. “Man oh man! Today’s view is so pretty! Mind if I sit?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!” and David sat down next to Max, scooting over so the boy did not complain about their close proximity. Max still huffed in irritation and huddled himself closer to the wooden pole on his side, leaning against it and ignoring the splinters licking at his skin. He’d take discomfort over being near David anyday.

They stayed like that for a while; Max occasionally sipping from his coffee, turning slowly colder, and David stayed mostly still. His long, pale fingers would drum against the boards once and a while and he would worry his bottom lip, but he still looked happy. Max was the only one who knew it was a half facade.

“How long have you been coming out here at this hour, Max?” asked David suddenly. The boy blinked and turned his head to face him. “I’m not really mad. I’m just curious is all.”

David wasn’t using that tone like he was disappointed in him and he wasn’t using the tone he used when he swore that one time. Somewhere in between that but without real conviction. Like David didn’t have a reason to be upset with him. Max’s fingers went to his knee and scratched at a scab he got from tripping earlier, unflinching to the pain when it peeled away at his nails.

“I like to sit and contemplate killing myself by drowning is all.” Max lied bluntly. David’s eyes shot to him, but not in worry. More calculating then anything. “But I like coffee too and sometimes Neil mumbles science in his sleep and wakes me up with the periodic table. Therefore, no sleep.”

“Does Neil make you not sleep?” David asked.

“No, I usually wake up on my own. When I do, I just notice. Anyway,” he turned his head down to stare at his scab before tossing it into the lake, wondering about piranhas, “why are you here, Davey?”

“That’s not a good sleep schedule to just gloss over, Max,” said David, brows furrowing as his voice picked up that scolding tone. “The average hours of sleep a kid of your age is roughly seven to eight hours! There’s a reason we have you guys in your tents by 8PM unless it’s a special occasion!”

He avoided the question. He avoided the question. **He avoided the question.**

“Oh yeah, David? What about you? You’re an adult, I think, who has to deal with stupid, ignorant, bullshit kids with no real talent that has fully developed who all hate this place. I already know you try, no shit, but _damn_ , if anyone needs sleep it’s probably you, tree stump.” Max scoffed in disbelief, sipping his coffee.

It was meant to be an insult; to his height, to his passion, to himself. David didn’t even flinch. Max looked back and struggled to keep the worry from his eyes. Something was up and it was really fucking bad. He wasn’t supposed to care about other people. There are four people he cared about at this summer camp: Neil and Nikki, they were the most likable people here; QM, who, if he snapped, would not hesitate to shoot up the place; and Nurf, who, if QM didn’t, would snap and strangle them all.

David was slowly getting on that list of people he cared about, but in a really bad way.

“I usually come out at this time. Sometimes when I leave, I see you going back into camp, so I never guessed you’d be all the way up here.” David finally said, smiling a bit. “It’s a nice place to just breathe and get a little clarity on life. Nothing but scenery and quiet. Can’t really find that back at camp, can you?”

“...No.”

“And like I said, sometimes I can’t sleep because I’m waiting for the next day! I like to get up extra early and do some workouts.”

Max looked incredulous. “Really?”

“I just did two miles in the forest,” David supplied. He did look sweaty and a little light-headed now that he was in the moonlight fully. Max hummed. Everyone had their thing. “Max, if you’re having trouble sleeping, you can always ask me or Gwen for some help. That’s our job.”

“What do you two know about help if you need it yourselves?” Max grunted. It was mostly directed at David, but he either didn’t notice and if he did, chose not to say anything about it.

“Gwen has that major for a reason and I’m a great talker with issues.” The ginger offered softly. “You’re not alone, Max.” They locked eyes; ocean green clashing with his own meadow green. Max knew now; David’s smile wavered gently.

“Worry about yourself first, you tree-fucking piece of shit.” Max grumbled, standing and placing the mug down on the dock when he took another swig and grimaced at the cold taste. David opened his mouth but the boy held up a small hand, glaring. “No, shut the fuck up. Don’t talk to me like this again until you invest in some sort of fucking help, David. I don’t feel like getting shot during this shitty ass summer.”

He turned and walked back up the dock, ignoring the lake as its soft ripples attempted to call him back. His hands shoved themselves into his hoodie pockets and he blinked some, annoyed. Stupid people. If you need help, get it unless you’re not able to, it’s simple as that. David had a car, and friends, and something to look forward to do. Max had nothing. David was just being selfish.

“Max!”

Max stilled, watching the tips of his sneakers touch the grass.

“...Goodnight, Max.”

“Fuck off and get some sleep.” He snapped back, continuing to walk.

The way back to the main campgrounds was far and the tall pine trees casted looming shadows. Max trekked slowly down the path, widening his eyes so they could adjust to the darkness easily. He’s a stranger with directions, but his feet knew the way. That was all Max could ask of himself, wasn’t it?

When he got to the main weird pentagram of tents where all the campers were sleeping inside, he spotted Quarter Master. The man was smoking a cigarette, lone eye staring at him. “You’re back late,” the man noted in his gruff voice, noticing the lack of mug. “Lose the mug?”

“Captain Planet has it.” Max replied tiredly. Since his coffee fix was reportedly done with, he could feel his eyes struggle to stay open and the aching feeling in his feet. QM nodded his head and disappeared into the darkness. Nicotine smoke trailed after him in a longing way. Max felt his mind puzzle over breezes for a second, wondering how strong they would have to be to lift him up and send him into the atmosphere. 

Maybe he would remember to ask Neil in the morning.

Max entered his tent, somewhat pleased to hear Neil muttering something about ‘Boyle’. Things were normal. He walked over to his bed, hopping onto it and taking off his blue hoodie. It was dark inside the tent, but Max was still somehow able to spot the reflection from his stuffed bear’s marble eye.

“Hey,” he said to it, picking up the bear and cradling it against his chest as he clambered under the thin blankets. Mr. Honey Nuts radiated some sort of energy that made Max steadily aware of good ideas. Max couldn’t think of anything negative when the bear was around.

He didn’t know whether to hate that ability or to cherish it. But too many good nights without nightmares occur, so he was pleased enough to keep him.

...

Now and forever.


	2. wood works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Language, Max. I'm not pulling any hands either! Today is _your_ camp activity!"
> 
> "You mean the one that my parents didn't sign me up for?" Max smiled. David's eyes flashed momentarily, but he didn't recognize the emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a headcanon that Max is basically awesome at crafts, like sewing, knitting, and especially woodwork. and i really like the concept of it.

**USUALLY, Max would** either be awake just a few minutes before David woke them all up or he would wake up just when David walked into their tent. Max was used to that. Everyone was. His sleep schedule was as shitty as this camp and he knew it. He didn’t do anything to stop it because ten year olds always discovered that staying up past your bedtime was cool. 

Except Max didn’t find it cool, he only found it distracting. 

So, when he felt his body being jostled lightly and a familiar voice speaking his name, it took everything in Max not to scream when his eyes shot open. He doesn’t like physical contact; he never has. A high five or a fist bump were okay, a clap on the shoulder was strange, holding _any_ part of his body was revolting.

Full, both arms around the body, close hugs were terrifying to him. Max doesn’t understand why. He did all of those things to other people; he high fived Neil and Nikki a lot and allowed them to loop their arms around his. Max even hugged David’s stupid skinny ass red knees that one time, though he doesn’t want to remember that. David has pat him on the shoulder a lot and Max can remember with a shudder that the man picked him up on more than one occasion. 

Maybe it’s because he never does those things at home. At home where the only affectionate physical contact is slight and minimal, and no longer caring and soft. At home where Max spends most of his time in a dirty room against the wall and staring blankly at the wall as his stomach grumbles endlessly until it ceases with grim acceptance that it wasn’t going to be getting a meal that night. At home where his parents lie in wait. 

Maybe that _is_ why, now that he thinks about it.

His eyes shoot over to the person, recognizing Neil’s tall frame and calculating blue eyes. “Jesus, Neil!” he manages to snap out, shoving the older boy’s hands off of him and glaring. “Ever just hear of calling my name? Thought you were David or something.”

Neil’s brows become furrowed. “Why David?”

“If anybody is a pedophile in this dump, it’s most likely to be him.” Max said blandly. He honestly didn’t think that David was like that, despite his weird demeanor around them, but if he had to choose? It would be David. He looked around their tent for a moment, finding nothing really out of place, before sighing. He wasn’t aware that his heart was beating that fast. “Don’t do that again, dude.”

Neil let out a sigh and just nodded. “Yeah, okay. Well hurry up and get ready so we can get this over with.” He said, smoothing out his turtleneck (who the fuck wears turtlenecks during summer?) and walking out of the tent. 

Max breathed in, resting a hand on his chest and grimacing when he felt his heart pump violently beneath his palm. Was he _really_ that panicky with people touching him? It was probably because he was asleep, but still. Once his breathing went back to normal and his heart wasn’t particularly excited, he leaned up. He felt Mr. Honeynuts under the covers near his legs so he scooped the bear up, checking it’s material for any tears. The teddy bear was old as shit and it wasn’t really uncommon that holes would pop up or a button would go missing. He thanks his Grandmother a lot for teaching him how to knit and sew whenever she could.

Finding no rips, he stashed the animal away under his pillow and went to putting on his hoodie and shoes in a bored state. He could hear David telling the other campers that until Max was outside, they wouldn’t be moving. Max half wanted to slow himself so he could just be an asshole, but he was too tired today. He walked out once he tied his shoes and squinted his eyes when the sunlight slammed onto his face. 

One of the many reasons why his least liked season was Summer.

“Good morning, Max! Have a good rest?” came David’s voice. Max blinked a few times once his eyes adapted to the sun, and he stared up at the man. David, as usual, was smiling cheerfully, smelling of fresh pines and something he could only clock off as an actual campfire. His eyes lingered on the bags under David’s eyes for a moment. 

“No.” he answered bluntly.

“Well, that’s not good,” David hummed, putting his hands on his hips. Max’s eye twitched. “Maybe today’s activity will wake you all up!”

Nerris, who was adjusting their wizard hat, perked up at the news. “Oh! What quest are we going on today, David?” They asked calmly. Everyone looked over at the man for his answer. Nobody did it with enthusiasm though; after the first day, Max was fairly sure all of them have grown to realize that the activities here weren’t really...fun. 

“I don’t know!” David calmly said.

Oh. _That_ was new. 

Gwen’s purple eyes, those of which made Max feel like he could never keep a secret around her anymore, looked over at David and narrowed in tired frustration. “David,” she started, voice slow. “I really hope you’re joking when you say that.”

The grin on David’s face grew wider. “I’m not. But I know who we can ask. Max!” 

_That was new._

Max’s eyes widened and he looked at David again, suspicious. “What? Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling?” He barked out. Multiple eyes snapped onto his small frame and through the small crowd of kids, he spotted Nikki’s utter confusion and Neil’s blankness. 

“Language, Max. I’m not pulling any hands here either! Today is _your_ camp activity!”

“You mean the one that my parents didn’t sign me up for?” Max smiled. David’s eyes flashed momentarily, but he didn’t recognize the emotion. “C’mon David, you’re a stupid fucking idiot, but you’re not _that_ stupid.”

“Thank you for the compliment. But everyone has already had their camp done at least twice with entire summer, Max. We’ve been putting it off for a while now, but now it’s your turn. It’s only fair!” David said happily. “How about this? We can just do something you’re good at.”

Max took his hands out of his pockets. “There’s a lot of grey area in ‘just do something you’re good at’. I’m good at a lot of shit. Like arson, shooting people, hell, just ask Neil and Nikki.” He said as he gestured. 

The ginger rubbed his chin a bit. “I, personally, don’t condone the act of arson and shooting people, unless it’s with water guns. Regardless, there has to be something you’re good at, Max! Something that can be shared with the rest of the campers.”

“No.” He answered.

“If you do, you’ll get extra ice cream.” Gwen offered immediately.

Max hummed, pleased. “Okay, fine.”

* * *

**“DAVID, I’m honestly** surprised you’ve done this before.” Gwen said, half lidded eyes catching sight of David’s craftsmanship. The man was half way done with carving a small wooden sculpture of a squirrel. Max raised his head and glowered. Willow wasn’t really the best wood to carve; it was soft and if you chipped it a certain way, everything else sort of collapses. The texture looks like fur though, so he can only guess that’s why David chose it. 

Then Max remembers that softer wood is good for most carvers. 

David didn’t even look at his co-counselor, turning the piece of wood and neatly shaving the sides with practised hands. Somehow, they all had actual wood carving tools, which Max just nodded at, but on the inside he was alight with joy. “I used to carve a lot when Mr. Campbell ran the camp! I guess it’s second nature to me now.” He laughed a bit, looking sheepish. Max looked away and glared at nothing. David was good at everything, wasn’t he?

“You know, Max,” Neil started from next to him, drawing the younger boy from his dark thoughts. He was carving a small wooden beaker out of standard oak wood. Max was fine with that. “I never took you to be a woodworker type.”

“Okay.” Max grumbled. He had decided not to carve anything, preferring to watch all the campers fuck up on this activity. The only decent people doing it was David, Harrison, Dolph, and Nurf, but the last one was definitely because he was good with knives. Nikki was using her teeth, making his blood gently boil inside, and Gwen was just watching with secret admiration. “Every person has their own stress-relievers.”

The knife paused and Max took a chance to swipe the wood shavings onto the ground. “I guess. It’s just weird. I thought you were going to have us shoot a BB gun or something,” Neil laughed, waving the knife slightly for emphasize.

“But everyone would have rocked at that. I want to see people suffer.” He said, rubbing his eyes. He was still plenty tired, eyes drooping shut more than once in the past half hour. Max should have made himself some coffee, but he woke up late _and_ he couldn’t find the damn mug. He grit his teeth lightly. 

Why did he leave it with David again?

“Rocks? Ooooh, has anyone ever tried to carve rocks before, Max? I’m going to assume you’re the expert on these types of things. Is there a specific type of wood you can use?” Nikki said as she removed her mouth from the large piece of birch wood, grinning at him. Bits of splinters were stuck between her teeth, but the pain wasn’t really a thing Nikki didn’t understand. 

He rolled his eyes. “Any wood works. Nikki, ever heard of Rome? Or Greece? They're the people that sort of carved everything in fucking rocks.”

“Those are the people that like grapes and olives, right?”

Max felt a flare of annoyance. He wasn’t a huge one for history and didn’t like talking about it, especially at this camp where Preston and his Shakesperian ass was lying in wait. It still made him a bit upset that all she knew from the two most influential and progressive groups of people in history (other than modern society) were _foods._

“Sure. If that’s all you pay attention to.” He growled, watching her examine her piece of wood before gnawing on it again. 

“It is!” She managed to mumble through it. 

He hated it here. People were simple creatures; greedy, selfish, and liars. The lot of them. He wasn’t any different, but it was worse when people didn’t believe that they were. Intelligence was relative and loyalty was a frazzled concept. Max has believed this. He always have.

Stupidity was like an airborne disease and everyone caught it. Varying levels of it existed, of course. People who have impacted the Earth in positive ways are amazing, Max can grant them that respect, but he doesn’t really care. They exist. They helped. Most of them are already dead, and the dead don’t come back. Camp Campbell really made that shine. Max seemed like he was the only one untouched.

Then, his eyes slid over to David and Gwen, who were staring at him. Maybe not only one then. 

“Max? You’re not making something?” David asked curiously. He was almost done, making the fine details of the face and paws of his creation. 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need to. I already know I can carve my way through Earth if I really wanted. Besides,” Max shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t give a shit.”

He looked disappointed. “C’mon, Max, it’s only fair. I’d be honored to see what you can make.” David chirped happily, then gestured into the woods. “There’s a million trees to choose from and I’m sure everyone wants to see how the master does it! You’re very creative, you know.”

“Creative in insults, maybe,” Max snickered. He is not a fan of people watching him as he did personal crafts. Most artists were not, he knew that, but Max felt sick whenever somebody watched him carve. It was like his little secret. What he did was his own private thing; nobody else needed to intrude on that. Nobody needs to know that he spends time at the lake to look for more things to take inspiration from. Nobody needs to know that Mr. Honeynuts has a small button that he whittled himself.

Nobody needs to know his passion, and that was okay.

“Definitely,” Gwen said, snorting as she browsed through her phone. Her eyes lifted and back towards the younger boy. “You’re a mastermind with coming up with ideas. You could carve tits on wood and it would probably look great.”

“That was a very weird compliment,” Neil piped up, raising a brow as he leaned around Max to stare at Gwen. The woman opened her mouth to retort, but nodded.

“Yeah, maybe. Max, what harm is it going to do you?” Gwen asked. 

“My fucking dignity! I don’t give a shit about this stupid camp and anyone in it, you two know that. I don’t need to do anything for you two,” Max hissed out acidly, eyes switching feverishly between the two adults. They didn’t understand that he was uncomfortable? Fine. “Just go die in a hole where no one will remember you, huh?”

_Snap!_

David’s knife entered the piece of wood he was carving into with such force that the blade snapped. Everyone went quiet, studying with sharp eyes. Max knew all they wanted to see was David to snap or some weird exclamation that would cause a stir in the camp’s gossip for a few days. Gwen blinked in bewilderment and leaned up a bit. “Uh...David?” She hesitantly spoke.

His face was mostly blank, eyes still staring at the carving but his lips were unmoving. Neither smiling or frowning. Not even neutral; it was just there. David took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes, Gwen?” he asked serenely. 

Something was wrong. Once again, Max’s face twisted into a confused sympathetic face, rolling his tongue in his mouth to try and force himself to talk. _David, are you okay?_ It was on the tip of his tongue, pressing against the back of his lips. He opened them.

“What? Did I trigger you or something? Get a grip, you fucking pinecone.”

That was worse. Gwen abruptly stood to her feet, and whirled onto him. He _shrank_ back for a moment, wincing at the ferocity in her burning purple eyes. “Max, shut the fuck up, for fucking _once_.” She snapped out. “God, I know you’re a fucking asshole but you have to know when to stop, okay?”

What he was experiencing was indescribable. He knew the words, shame and regret, but he never really knew how to deal with them. Max told Neil and Nikki off when the Camp shut down temporarily, yes, and he hated himself for it. They’ve made up at this point and it was nothing more than a distant memory. A bad memory, but distant.

He felt ashamed and he felt regret. 

This felt the same, but looking up at Gwen as she stared him down made him feel weak. He’s never really felt weak before. Not a power weak either. Weak in the knees, weak in the mind. Max felt like he had to grovel and spew out apologizes just from her _gaze._ And that was not normal. He was stuck in that gaze that he didn’t even notice when the woman moved to David’s side, yanked him up by his skinny shoulders and pushed him in the direction of the counselor cabin, muttering something about “Sit down”.

She looked back. “Don’t burn the camp down.” Is all she said before she and David entered their own cabin and shut the door behind them. Max gulped but he didn’t know why. He was Max! He was the number one troublemaker of Camp Campbell and nobody could top him. Why would he care about what other people think that weren’t his friends.

But that was Max’s first experience of an adult standing up to him, rage seeping into every frame of their body, and not lashing out physically. He is stunned if anything. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. That’s not how anything is supposed to be? He sat down and rested his hands on top of his head, staring at the willow wood shavings. That was considered normal? Right? What _is_ normal? Why did he care? Why was David upset?

Then, it clicked. What was David really hiding?


	3. master of masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can we not talk about this anymore?”
> 
> “Just now or later on?” Max questioned boredly, seeing David peer into the mug with a lowered gaze. 
> 
> “...Ever, sort of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna make this more angsty, but i figured i would give max a bit of a break and think for most of the time.
> 
> by the way, thank you so much for the kudos and comments! it really means a lot.

**MAX has changed.** He hated accepting that fact, even now. It was something seeped into his bones to make him squirm and want to tear off his skin with something that wasn’t particularly safe. The _old_ Max wouldn’t be mulling over this. The old Max would definitely not be hesitating. Neil and Nikki made that very well versed when Max stormed off after the adults left and spent his time pacing the coast of the lake.

When they asked him what he was doing, he looked over and said, “I don’t know.”

That phrase alone seemed to stir them into an uncomfortable silence that he didn’t like. It was so quiet that he eventually forgot they were there until he whirled around and bit his lip. “I think,” he started slowly, “I think I fucked up.”

Nikki started laughing while Neil looked unimpressed. “You think?” Max didn’t appreciate that. 

But he didn’t have time to think about Neil when he was standing in front of the door to the counselor’s cabin at 02:15AM, scuffing his shoe on the ground and trying to muster up some form of courage to walk in and say something. Preferably not something that made David freeze up and Gwen to snap. He’s said it before and he’ll say it again; He prefers Camp-hating Gwen, not Max-hating Gwen.

Max wasn’t aware of what he wanted to say. He felt a little confused, but he felt mad and stupid and horribly disoriented at nothing in the world and he couldn’t help but take it out on somebody who maybe deserved it. David didn’t, however, so he accidentally lashed out. Max hated the man, or at least he thinks he does, but he wouldn’t say that David deserved all of his pent up anger and cynicalism. 

Maybe he would find some new soul to torture in this camp. Until then, he would cut back on David’s daily agony. Only slightly.

He paced in front of the doors calmly, going over conversations in his head. He would walk in, snatch the mug, calmly say that what he said this morning wasn’t particularly cool, and leave. It was simple as that. Right?

He shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his hands together for a moment before opening the door and glaring. The cabin was...actually very cozy. On his right was David’s side of the cabin, that much was obvious. Everything was in place there; bed neatly made, the corkboard against the walls was organized, the desk was clean and the window was open to let in a cool breeze. 

On his left was Gwen’s side, which Max calmly deduced that it was an average teenager’s room. It was messy, but not too messy, clothes haphazardly tossed about and magazines littering the desk. He wasn’t very interested on reading the fine print. Gwen was sitting down on one of her more comfy chairs, wrapped in a fluffy white blanket with a small white cup clasped in her large hands. Her dark face was illuminated by the television displaying a Bob Ross video, as he was painting a mountain surrounded by clouds.

She had a peaceful smile on her face until she looked over at him, eyes expectant before they narrowed. Max hasn’t seen such a fast transition of attitude on another persons face other than his own and probably Nurf. He saw her fingers twitch on the cup and she lowered it slightly. “Hi, Max.

Her voice shouldn’t make him look at the wooden floorboards, but he couldn’t will himself to look at her. “Hey,” he managed to clip out. She didn’t respond. “Where...Where is the mug?”

She clicked her tongue. “Is that all you care about, Max?”

This was not how he expected it to go. Max looked up at her and tried to look sincerely apologetic. “Well, kind of. But, uh, I wasn’t cool today or whatever. So, I’m sorry?” He tried. He did not say sorry to people all too often. Usually he expressed apologizes through actions; taking the blame, doing something for them. Verbal apologizes made his mouth dry. 

“That was a lot better than I thought you were going to do, so I guess I’ll let it slide.” Gwen shrugged her shoulders. He looked up in surprise. Relief came washing over his shoulders and he sighed. 

“Okay, so--”

“ _David,_ however, is not over it.” 

And the tidal wave of claustrophobic expectations crashed over him and he tried not to breathe for a moment so he wouldn’t drown. Max was an okay swimmer, but something about seeing waves startled him to no end. Nobody knows what can happen in them and he sure as fuck doesn’t. Gwen must have seen the look on his face, because she sat up straighter and turned her entire body toward him.

He shook his head for a second and he went back to staring at his worn-down shoes. “Is he bullshit mad?”

“No, of course not, he’s David.” The woman eased. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his and I never will. Nobody will. Except for the Government, I wouldn’t be surprised. He gets sensitive around topics like that though. You understand, right?”

Max looked up, and for the first time, his voice went soft, “No. Why is he upset with that? I make jokes like that all the time; he does that whole ‘You should live your life’ blah blah blah, but he doesn’t try to stop me.”

Gwen didn’t move, but suddenly she seemed a lot more guarded. “It’s not my place to tell you. He’s been having a rough past few days and it’s stressful dealing with you assholes is all. Listen, he has the mug, but try not to bother him right now, huh? Wait until later to do your half-assed apology and then he’ll be normal David again.”

He would be a lot more comfortable with what she suggested. Only if her voice didn’t shift slightly when she mentioned that Max shouldn’t bother him right now. David wasn’t anywhere in the camp, Max knew that for sure, and the car parked right next to the cabin meant he didn’t leave for town, so what was he going to assume?

The dock, of course. 

Curiosity was a trait Max has always had. He liked to know things, it was simple as that. When people lead something on for him, he followed it like a dog on a meat truck. Max liked playing detective, he likes knowing motives, he liked knowing secrets. 

He feigned reluctant acceptance, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll...I’ll see you later or whatever.”

She turned back to her show. “See you, Satan.”

He smiled a bit. “Bye bitch.”

* * *

**DAVID was at** the end of the dock when Max arrived. He didn’t dare step on the wood; giving away his position in eavesdropping would suck and he was horribly curious. The moon was bright, as always, and the scenery preached with tranquility. The only thing that seemed out of place was David, who was hunched over.

He strained his ears to listen, gently touching one of the dock poles so he could lean further along. The mug was at the man’s side. No steam rising from it suggested that it was water or some other cold drink. Max frowned and cocked his head. David was an unmoving figure. He was crossed legged and just seemed to be staring at nothing. Every once and awhile, he would shift to make himself more comfortable on the dock, ignoring the way the dock would creak and bend. 

“It’s rude to listen in on people, Max,” David suddenly chirped out, looking back. The shadow across his long face made it appear faceless and Max shuddered a bit. 

“That’s ironic, considering yesterday,” he quipped in response.

“I wasn’t listening in. I just saw you.” David explained.

Max’s eyes narrowed and David turned his head back. The boy stepped onto the dock and walked down it until he was by the man’s side. Once again, a shared respectful silence. Max noted that David was smiling. It wasn’t forced but it definitely wasn’t real; it just sort of existed. 

“What was earlier today about?” he asked bluntly. 

“It was just an inappropriate topic.”

“Yeah, but you never reacted like that before, David. I talk about killing myself all the time and all you do is a,” Max makes a random gesture, “weird sort of half-assed ‘Don’t say that Max’.”

David looked up at him from his position and blinked in surprise at him. “Of course! You’re still a kid, you still have a lot to live for.” He said firmly. 

Max smirked at the statement. That was exactly what he wanted. His eyes wandered David’s lanky figure and focused in on a flash of a small orange container. “And adults like you don’t? Don’t think I don’t see that fucking pill bottle next to you. If you’re going to be sneaky about it, be a bit more convincing.”

The man exhaled harshly through his nose and rubbed his face some, turning his head back to the lake. His small brows furrowed slightly. “Am I really that obvious?” he asked slowly.

“It depends on what category you mean. You’re not that good about hiding things,” he pointed at the bottle for emphasize, “but you’re really good at hiding your feelings.” David breathed in shakily and Max was aware that he had made another mistake when he saw David’s eyes shine from moisture. His lips pressed together and he lightly nudged the man on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t cry. More than you do in a day anyway.”

God, teenage years were supposed to be the time period to be awkward, but Max was embodying it now. He didn’t know how to deal with people when they were just crying. If he could hardly soothe Nikki that one time, how the hell is he going to soothe a whole grown man? Granted, David didn’t start crying just yet, but Max had a feeling he would cry regardless.

“I didn’t want _that_ . Does _everyone_ think that?”

Max worried his bottom lip. “Well, no. They just think you’re very happy, but I’m partly sure most of their reasoning is that you’re a murderer or taking eight different forms of illegal drugs. I used to think it was because you were a legit pedophile.”

David rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s not any of those.”

“Excellent.” Max huffed sarcastically. “Listen, I suck at this whole reassuring thing and whatever the fuck, so can I just be blunt with you?”

“Sure,” David muttered after a moment of silence.

“I am the master of masks, you know that at this point, and let me tell you something, David? It’s honestly fucking depressing to see you have a good one. Today? That was not fucking normal for you and everyone noticed. I’m sort of sorry for what I said,” Max looked away and glowered into the woods, “and it was uncalled for, I just hate people asking me to do shit. What was it all about anyway? Why are you taking pills at three in the morning or some shit? Where did you even get them?”

David wasn’t stupid, but he was really open. Max learned that today. “For one, Gwen said they were antidepressants and she said I could have a few when I’m feeling...sad.”

“You can say depressed around me.” He said calmly.

David’s gaze dimmed. “Right. But uh, I don’t want to take them in camp. What would you guys think if you saw a counselor taking them? It’s not very responsible and I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules. I want to be a positive influence on you guys after all!”

Max tried not to roll his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“For what happened today, I guess I just got a little mad. Not really at you Max, I know you didn’t mean it,” the ginger offered a soft smile that Max didn’t return. “It’s just been really hard trying to function lately. I’m really tired all the time and I’m not really myself. Something like that is a bit iffy.”

David was lying; Max could see it as plain as day. He opened his mouth to call him out, but chose not to. If Max could keep secrets, it was only fair that he let somebody keep theirs. For now, anyway.

“Sure, okay.” He said instead.

“Did Gwen send you?” David asked.

“No. In fact, she didn’t want me to come at all.” Max said, carefully observing as David tapped against the cap of the container slightly. “Probably cause she thinks I’ll do something.”

“Like?”

“Like call you a pussy, which I definitely would have if we weren’t in this situation,” he stated. He saw David sigh a bit at his language, but didn’t try to tell him off. Max felt somewhat accomplished when he noticed that he didn’t look like he was about to cry. “But...whatever.”

“Wanna sit?” David scooted over and moved the mug. Max bit the inside of his cheek, but shrugged and sat down. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“Just now or later on?” Max questioned boredly, seeing David peer into the mug with a lowered gaze. 

“...Ever, sort of.”

David was on a whole new level of sad. There’s a line people usually make. Depressed people, like himself, just outwardly express it. He doesn’t do ridiculously edgy things that set him apart from the attention-seeking depressed people, but everyone who knew him or of him knew that he wanted nothing more than to just collapse. Just die already. But Max can’t, because he wanted to watch the world burn when the realization that nothing will ever truly be peaceful hits them smack in the face.

Max has never achieved feigning happy-sad. He’s seen a few people like it, sure. A few women and men in his neighborhood that would give him a pained smile whenever they would spot him; he faintly recalls seeing a young Asian girl fading in and out of thoughts until she snapped out of it. A forced smile was a reflex for those people. Observant people can catch them at a fragile moment and just know. Max has always known that David was hiding something, be it something weird or personal. 

He never realized it, but he was always quietly muttering to himself that he really wished it wasn’t mental. 

He’s not an oblivious kid. He knows shit that he shouldn’t and he’s done things that he shouldn’t have. Max is _not_ an idiot. And yet, David left him feeling stupid whenever they ever interacted since that one day. Where David dropped his facade and stopped being happy for only once. That was his breaking point and ever since, cracks have been forming around that one spot until he was sure the man wouldn’t be able to pull it off anymore.

David may fool the kids. He may be able to fool Gwen a little. But he couldn’t fool a person who knew him the most out of anyone. Max just needed to know why David thought he was fooling people.

“Sure,” Max agreed and tried to ignore the instant relaxation in David’s shoulders. 

They sat in a fractured version of peace. David would take sips from his mug (Water, maybe. Ice tea, _probably_ ) and Max would drum his fingers on the wood beneath him. Both didn’t look at each other, moving their attention to the lake. Max thought about how different the lake looked at night in contrast to morning. _Secrets come out at night,_ he hummed in his mind. 

“Do….Do you want your watch back?” asked Max suddenly. The ginger next to him laughed breathily. “What?”

“No, Max, you can keep it. I can just get a new one.” 

“Okay.”

Yup, awkward. It wasn’t as bad this time. There was space between them, but he still felt a little suffocated. Maybe it was tension or maybe he was uncomfortable with this. He has always known but knowing that a dark truth was revealed?

It’s scary, and Max does not scare easy.

It was 03:56AM when David sighed and looked up at the stars. “I think it’s about time we go back, huh? We _are_ supposed to be up by six afterall.”

Max stashed away his watch back under his jacket sleeve, mind reeling to how he didn’t notice that almost a whole hour had passed him by, and looked at David. “Really thought you would have sent me back at a quarter to three.”

He smiled, but it really look particularly forced. “You’re good company.”

Max should be very uneasy about that statement. He practically lives for not being good company, but he just lets it slide. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, fucker.”

“Going back to insults?”

He gave a rare cheeky smile. “I thought this whole thing never happened.” David’s laugh was spontaneous and Max shook his head. “Alright, calm down you fucking giraffe, you’re going to wake up the whole fucking camp with that shit.”

The man finally stood when he calmed down, still smiling. “Okay, Okay. Fine. You coming back soon?” he asked.

Max shrugged. “Nah, I’ll wait a bit.”

“Not too long, Max.” David warned, but allowed it. As the man turned, he did something that would normally result in David’s hand getting slapped off when he ruffled Max’s hair.

He stayed unmoving.

“See you later.”

The dock swayed heavily with his departure and Max released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. David was a different person at late night to early morning. Good to know.

And apparently, so was he.


	4. 02:59AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not going to hurt you, Max. I never would and I never could.”
> 
> Max opens his mouth to scream at him more, but either his voice is gone or he’s too tired to reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> david's pov, let's go fellas
> 
> we have a lot of poorly written angst at the second break in the chapter,,,just warning you. this is the chapter where max spills and david u n d e r s t a n d s.
> 
> also, since it's the 4th of July when I post this, Happy 4th! I'm not exactly all for the holiday but have fun. If you have pets, please make sure they're comforted and stuff :333

**DAVID walked into** the counselor’s cabin at exactly 04:15AM and his relaxed expression from walking in the woods back faded to slight disappointment when he saw that Gwen was still up. She always said that she liked going to sleep after he was asleep or at least in the cabin at night. Gwen said it soothed her but David argued that it wasn’t healthy for her. She would flip him off and he would roll his eyes, used to her antics. 

She looked over when David entered, sleepily blinking at him and then smiling. “Hi. You alright?”

_No._

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

**_Fucking liar._ **

Gwen’s eyes searched his own for a moment before she was satisfied with his answer, sipping at her tea cup. Judging by the kettle next to her and the half empty jar of honey that was full when the night began, he could tell that this was not her first cup. “Good. I’m doing a Ross marathon. Want to watch it with me?” she offered, gesturing with her head in the direction of the screen. Cabin In the Woods. 

David smiled a bit at its beauty. “No thanks. In fact, you should be getting to sleep, you know.”

A brow rose. “So should you.”

_Why do you care? I don’t understand._

He sighed. “Okay, let’s just go to sleep then.”

“After this episode and this cup of tea.” Gwen said.

“Are you going to weasel your way out of it somehow?”

Gwen turned and looked at the television. “You know me so well, David.”

David got some of his pajamas from his dresser and moved to the bathroom area of the cabin, ignoring Gwen’s trance-induced mutterings of, “Every tree needs a friend”. As he closed the door behind him, his back was to the wood immediately and he released a shaky breath. The container clinked lightly when he set it down on the sink rim, the bright colors staining his eyes. David doesn’t like looking at the pills in question; even when he told Gwen a vague snippet of how he was feeling and she offered them to him immediately. They were small and white and he confuses them for aspirin when he hasn’t taken them for a time.

He’s been off of them for a while; he lied to Gwen. “I’m okay, Gwen. I’m feeling better,” he had told her two weeks prior, smiling. She did not look like she believed him then, but did not pressure him. She just nodded. He wanted to get better, he didn’t want to rely on pills to keep him happy.

David hardly even knows why he’s even depressed, but Gwen told him that people sometimes don’t know yet. Sometimes it’s just because of how they’re raised emotionally. Sometimes it’s because of how people treat him. He doesn’t particularly understand. He just sort of merged into being an adult. He hated everything when he was younger; David didn’t like nature, he didn’t like people, he didn’t like the idea of interdependence.

If he could, he would try and help his younger self realize that it all wasn’t that bad. David knew that now. Things were okay and it was okay not to be okay. But in his opinion? It’s strange to him that not being okay is viewed as normalcy. He doesn’t know why he’s like this: feigning smiles, singing songs, and limping along in life with as much pessimistic optimism as one person can have.

Thinking about it, there has to be some kind of word to describe a pessimistic-optimistic person. David figured he would ask Gwen later. Something about being depressed made him feel guilty. David didn’t have a dark, brooding past. He didn’t really go through teenage angst. The only issue he has is his own ignorance at times and dealing with kids. Before he became a counselor, he’s always seen kids as bundles of positivity and endless joy. They were open to the world and had no worries.

David’s ignorance was, unfortunately, present again in thinking this. 

They were unnaturally serious. They seem to know everything and that’s what made David somewhat disturbed by the children under his care. He often wondered if their wide eyes could see right through him. They were adults in child bodies, Gwen muttered occasionally. Even the more child-like of them all had a certain level of intelligence. David loved them dearly, he did, but he was terrified of them in the deep depths of his mind.

Though the one kid that he sympathizes, empathized with, was Max. His eyes weren’t usually wide, preferring to keep a lax and nonchalant gaze, but he sees through David the most. He knows and that scared David beyond his mind. If David didn’t have an idea why he felt this way then Max would, but it’s not exactly professional asking a ten-year old cynical kid for help. It’s very tempting. Max was just too much like his younger self, minus all the swearing, he supposes. 

He’s seen Max vulnerable and it was likewise.

Nevertheless, his mind is reeling; boggling for a sense and some idea to latch onto. As he stared into the mirror, dressed and numbly brushing his teeth, he was lost. Someone knows what’s wrong. Gwen doesn’t, Max _might,_ and David doesn’t even believe the answer exists. He wiped his face with a clean towel when he was done and focused on the bags under his eyes.

 _Late nights don’t really work for me, I think,_ he thought slowly. _They’re getting a bit more noticeable. That isn’t really a good image for a counselor, is it?_ Something in the back of his mind cackled and asked if it was of any use. David chose to ignore it and leave the bathroom. “Gwen, it's time to sleep.”

She looked over from her new episode and looked unimpressed. “Last time I checked, you’re not my dad. I’m also older than you.”

“By a month,” David huffed at her. “We both need sleep, c’mon.”

“Five more minutes.” She pleaded, smiling hopefully at him. He opened his mouth to deny her again, but caught the look in her eye and he sighed. David couldn’t even grow a backbone when she gave him that face.

“ _Fine._ Any longer and I’m turning it off.”

She spun back around and stayed quiet, watching the screen. He exhaled harshly through his nose and went over to his overly organized side of the large room. He lifted the covers and clambered under them, turning off his lamp so the only light in the room was from the television. David eventually turned, too bothered to look at the wall, and focused to staring at the screen as well.

He couldn’t commit himself on sleeping, too wrapped up in his own unimportant thoughts. He didn’t tell how much had past, but Gwen soon stood and turned off the television after she stretched. She set down her cup, stayed in place for a long moment, then moved to her bed, yawning.

“Good night, David.”

“Good night, Gwen. Sweet dreams,” he muttered in reply as she got into her own bed and made herself comfortable. He finally felt his eyelids grow heavy and he dozed off.

But he should have stayed up a bit longer, for he would have noticed that Max returned, but with teary eyes and a confused, but pleased smile. 

* * *

**WHEN David stepped** outside his cabin with his normal greeting, “Good morning, Campers!”, he had a bad feeling about today. He felt a chill run up his spine and his green eyes wandered the camp grounds for a moment, lingering on the trees. _You just haven’t had a good rest last night,_ he eased himself. _No big deal. Get over it, David._

Sure. He planned to.

As he watched all of the campers file out from their tents, yawning and already looking tired, a certain face caught his attention. Max’s, whose was riddled with tiredness and wary. It was a very unwelcoming expression that David wasn’t used to. He looked over at Gwen and judging by the look on her face, she noticed too. 

“Glad to see you’re all bright awake, campers!” David said. They all muttered tiredly in response which was fairly normal, considering their age and basic personas. “I checked the weather today and it said it was going to be extremely hot. _I_ am not affected by it, but I know how much you guys don’t like the heat; I came up with two alternatives. We can either have an inside day where there are fans and we can put on a movie _or_ we can risk the lake again.”

Needless to say, the majority chose the movie. 

The kids moved past and around him to follow Gwen, who was muttering something about “half gonna let their stupid asses watch Nightmare on Elm Street”, into the mess hall for breakfast and such. David’s gaze flashed over to Max, who was trailing after them with Neil and Nikki by his side. As they got closer he could hear a part of their conversation.

“...Don’t look too good, Max,” Nikki was saying, magenta eyes peering at the aforementioned curiously. Max’s eyes were tired and bloodshot and shiny. “Is it some weird forest sickness,” she suddenly reeled back from him, startled, “is it _rabies_?”

“No, Nikki, what the hell?” Max scoffed, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m fine, I just need coffee or some dumb shit.”

“Or, ya know, sleep,” Neil piped up boredly.

“Shut the fuck up, Neil.”

It sounded like Max, but David recognized the tone. He intercepted them; if Max could worry (the boy never liked to admit that he did) then so could he. “Hey, you three. Mind if I have a chat with Max? I won’t keep him for long,” David asked.

Max flatly glared at him while his two companions exchanged wary looks. “What if we say no?” Nikki questioned, tilting her head at him.

The smile broadened accidentally. “It was rhetorical.” That certainly snapped them into a tense silence.

Max gave a loud sigh, rolling his shoulders and nodded. “Okay fine. You guys go on without me. If I scream, call the cops,” he grunted. Neil and Nikki looked alarmed at this behavior and David understood why. Max would never easily agree to speak with him one on one after the whole Daniel thing happened again, and if he ever did, he would have given his reasons. But Max was looking at David expectantly. 

Patient.

That scared them all. David tried to brush off the prickly feeling on the back of his neck as Neil and Nikki left very slowly. Max peered around the man and made a gesture. Wow, hand signals. He really needed to pay more attention to those three.

“Walk with me?”

“Are we going to go look for a fucking bird again?” Max grumbled as he trudged after David. “Also, slow the fuck down, you steroid-induced yard stick, if you can’t tell, I’m literally the size of your leg. Not even that.”

David didn’t know what that insult was, but he still flinched when it came at him. “No, Max,” he said as he stopped beside one of the campers tents, further from the Mess Hall. The boy narrowed his eyes up at him. “I know you hate people worrying about you--”

“I’m fine.” It was quick and sharp and filled with malice. 

“--But you look like you didn’t get any sleep last night--”

“Are you deaf?”

“--And that’s really worrying to me, even when I told you to head to camp soon. In fact, when did you get back?”

“Does it fucking matter?” Max growled.

“ _Yes_ ,” David insisted, “I know I should’ve sent you back sooner, then we would not have had that talk and...everything. It wouldn’t have kept you and I up either--”

“David.”

“R - Right. Uh, look, I just need to know if you’re okay.”

“David.”

“And I’m only asking this because you know that I care, even though I know you hate that,” his words were coming out a bit rushed by this point, “and yet I cannot stress enough that--”

“ _David._ ” Max said, a little louder. 

“--Sleep is important. Basically, I’m just trying to say sorry and that you don’t need to b - be there for me like that again, even though I appreciate it. I’m going to try and stop, so it’s no big deal! You shouldn’t be looking after an adult as old as m - me after all--”

“ _David!_ ”

His mouth closed. 

Max’s eyes were wide as they stared up at him, surprised and David glanced over his shoulder for a moment in confusion. “Jesus fucking christ, David. Remind me to never stay up past my fucking bedtime,” he said sarcastically, “chill out. I’m fine. But you saying that right then is proof enough that you’re actually _that_ type of depressed.”

His heart froze in astonishment. “What?”

“The one that refuses friend and family help to not be a burden, but would gladly seek any other help. Not that I’m your friend or some shit. People you ‘trust’, is better. So, shut the fuck up.”

“But--”

“Do you want help or not?”

His mouth closed once more.

“Good. Listen, _call_ somebody to help you for fucks sake. Doesn’t Gwen have a degree or some shit in psychology, no matter how useless it is?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to use her like that.” David frowned. Max’s eye twitched and the boy suddenly turned. “M - Max?”

“I’m fine. Like I said before, _worry about yourself first._ ” Max glanced back at him as he left and David felt glued to the spot at the cold fury and deep confusion in his eyes.

The bad feeling grew. This was not going to be the last time they talk about this.

* * *

**02:59AM is when** Max finally snapped. The man approached him at the dock--the old pieces of wood seem extra fragile today--with a sympathetic look. It was an uneventful day; David kept zoning off, enough to make Gwen start joking about Xanax and Adderall. Max kept glaring at him whenever the chance arose and he didn’t really figure out why.

The second he stood next to Max and opened his mouth to comment on the pretty nature, Max beat him to speaking. “Are you really that fucking _dense,_ David?” he hissed. Malice and disgust. 

“I know I don’t know usually common things to an adult if that’s what you mean.” David frowned at him. Meadow green angrily flashed at him from underneath a curly mess of black hair. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“ _Cut the shit!_ ” Max suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet and pointing at the man. David’s eyes went to the mug in his hands first, brows flying upward. He must have left it yesterday. “You know fucking _everything_ that upsets me! You know fucking everything don’t you? Is _that_ what you think, you piece of shit?”

David felt his brain rack through what could possibly be happening. Max yelled at him a lot, yes, too often to count most times. This had a different feel. His eyes fell onto Max’s face and he could feel his heart leap to his neck in panic. Max’s eyes were watering and the pupils were shaking violently, sharply peering at his face in malice and the grip around the mug was turning his knuckles white. In fact, his entire body was shaking harshly.

“Max! Are you cold? You’re shivering.” David quickly started to fret. He was pretty used to the elements during early morning, so he hardly felt the chill Max was probably feeling. He stepped forward and Max took a step back, brows knitting together. 

“You’re so fucking _annoying,_ David.” He seethes. “So fucking annoying and stupid. ‘Oh yes, l - let me just gloss over my depression. Friends! Rainbows! Animals!’ What kind of fuc - fucked up mentality is that? You have friends and family, you piece of fucking _trash._ You have _no_ reason to sit here and try to _relate_ to me!”

Each word stung viciously; each syllable felt like pins and needles and every emphasis made him falter. His throat felt parched and the only water around was in the lake, which as bottomless as his guilt. “Max,” he breathed; cautious. “You’re panicking.”

“Like _you_ would know jack sh - shit about panic!” Max’s eyes are crazy. The tears that formed in them reflect the moon harshly so that David nearly looked away. They don’t fall though, choosing to stay and blur Max’s vision. “You don’t know anything about me; don’t act like y - you care about me, David.”

“Don’t say that, Max,” he said firmly.

“Why? Why not, David? Because we’re so al - alike and you want to care about yourself?” Max laughs, but there’s no amusement. Only a sick trembling anger. “G - Go fuck yourself.”

David took a deep breath. What would he do if he didn’t care for Max? What would he do if he were anybody else? What would he do if he were Max’s parents? _They don’t care. Just like you._ The thought is in his head, but it steals Max’s voice and suddenly he wants to split his head open. He wants to crack open his skull and, for a second, he believes that if Max saw, the boy would believe him. 

“What caused this outburst?” he asked calmly. He doesn’t want to try and reassure him; Max only grew more angry like that. The boy in question pauses at this question.

Innocence. That’s what his eyes displayed for a flash. They turned cold and wild quickly though, but David saw. He knew. He has always known. “Your fucking bullshit ea - earlier! Get enough sleep, Max. Get back to ho--to camp, Max! _Don’t forget to brush your motherfucking teeth, you fucking scum._ ” Max hisses. “Your who - whole stupid rambling _nonsense._ ”

Max turned toward the lake. “You’re not fooling a - anyone, David. You’re not fooling Gwen; you’re not fooling the campers, and for _damn_ s - sure you are _not_ fooling me.”

David stepped closer again. “What--?”

“ _Don’t fucking move and don’t fucki - fucking interrupt me._ ” Max snapped. His breathing was unsteady, letting out more air then what he was receiving. A tear slipped and it entered whatever liquid was being held in the cup. “You’re just li - like them. You’re just looking for somebody to use for yourself. You’re making people worry over you a - and you _know_ you fucking enjoy it. You were guilt tripping me earlier, I - I hope you know.”

 _I was, wasn’t I?_ David ponders briefly, but his horror overrides his brief blankness. “Oh god. Max, I’m sorry..”

“Sorry, now?” He whirled back. David wasn’t watching the boys face, entirely too struck to focus, but his eyes weren’t narrowed and squinted and hating anymore. It was pitiful. David always knew Max was a child, he just couldn’t view him anything other than that in a physical sense. He’s never seen Max with such an expression; one that betrayed secrets held by a bleeding tongue and hated everything his teary eyes gazed upon. Max has always had the body of a kid, but his face never really showed it until now and David hated it. 

“How can you be sorry! You don’t know a si - single thing about me. Oh, now you’re really just like them. You can’t be sorry for a person if you don’t k - know how they are, David. First rule of living in the world. You always say sorry though,” Max tries to smile sarcastically, but it never comes because he’s too busy crying and trying to be mad at him, “what’s _sorry,_ David, is t - that you have never seen a household like mine. What’s sad is that you alw - always try to help people who don’t want it.”

It’s sickening. Listening to Max ramble panickingly to himself, eyes dashing around David’s face and the around around it and voice breaking and watery from crying as he compared David to his parents. He doesn’t know what he should be feeling when he hears Max stammer through a description of how nice his father _was_ to his wife and child. He doesn’t know what to do with his eyes when Max abruptly turns again and sends the mug sailing into Lake Lilac, painting the sky with the clear liquid of tea (stolen from Gwen, definitely) and landing heavily in the lake, before the boy’s hands went to his hair, tugging and scrambling for purchase when he cries that his mother never lulled him to sleep after a nightmare and told him to ‘grow a fucking backbone’. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands when Max suddenly says that the bruises on most of his body when the camp first started are gone; when Max invites David to hate him just so he can have a taste of what the real world can be.

That, of course, is before Max can’t talk anymore because his throat closes up and the only sound that leaves is rapid breathing and anxious, incoherent mumbling.

David’s mind turns selfish. 

 _Make him stop talking about you like this,_ his impulsive side states eagerly.

 _Comfort him, he needs it,_ his rational side encourages.

_If he compares you to his father, then you might as well play the part, David._

_You love him._

_You hate him._

**_You are who you are and you can’t change that._ **

So, he says the first thing that comes to mind when he sees Max start to tremble and freeze up from his attack: “I’m not going to hurt you, Max. I never would and I never could.”

Max opens his mouth to scream at him more, but either his voice is gone or he’s too tired to reply. He manages a shaky and loud sob however, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I care about you, Max. You’re denying the truth. You’re _safe_ here.” David eases slowly, clearing his throat when it stuffs up lightly. “You’re okay, Max. Here; I know a nice way we could calm down together. I like to count to ten forward and then backwards. It helps me focus and I can guarantee it will work for you too.” He copies and pastes a smile onto his face to soothe the boy. Max offered a shaky nod, trying to control his breathing. “With me, Max. One…two...three...”

Max couldn’t say one and then there’s a new set of tears that spill down his cheeks and metaphorically make David swim harder. On reflex, he steps forward and Max slammed his foot backwards in panic, eyes snapping wide at him. 

The dock groans and then there’s a disgusting cracking sound followed by a heavy splash. David blinked and the part of the dock where Max was is no longer there.

Neither is Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a more serious note, childhood trauma, abuse, and other things mentioned in this chapter and in the tags are not joking matters in any way, no matter how much I write about it in this. If you or a loved one is experiencing any of these issues, please, don't be afraid to contact any sort of help to ease that burden and pain. 
> 
> I love you all even though I haven't been here for a while. <33333333


	5. real world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Max started awkwardly, rubbing his arms. “Are you mad at me?”
> 
> “I don’t think I can be mad at you anymore.” 
> 
> That made Max look down guiltily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some fluffy angst :)))

**IT’S COLD WHY** IS IT SO COLD? Make It Stop Make It Stop Make It Stop. Too cold, too cold. 

There’s a jumbled mess of mantras in his head when he enters the water. All of his senses go numb and he’s only aware of the pace of his heart as it fills every part of his body. He panicked. He had heard David talking, listening in to his soothing voice as his mind clashed with the urge to just _kill himself_ and the basic human instinct of survival. 

And then David moved and there were the green eyes of his father looking down at him and Max was almost about to start wailing in terror. Before the dock collapsed under him and he felt frozen. Max wants to swim to the surface but he can’t open his eyes and he can’t tell if he is floating up or floating down. 

He knows that he never wanted death by drowning, but if this was the way out of it, at least it would be painless. Distantly in the back of his mind, he’s very aware he’s still crying and he tries to move. Max hates crying and whenever he did, he always made sure to do it in small amounts. A bit of pain was okay, disappointment was fine, crying with laughter made him smile and that wasn’t too bad.

But things bottled up must eventually get poured out, right? 

When David left after messing up his hair early yesterday morning, his body didn’t know how to react. It was an affectionate gesture; he has seen it multiple times at school when kids would get picked up by their parents. He doesn’t think Max has ever been touched affectionately by anybody other than Neil and Nikki. So, when he realized that David was on that list and that, yes, Max liked that, he started tearing up happily. 

Nevertheless, ever since goddamn Parent’s Day, Max hates crying and especially if he happens to be around David. David is stupid, David doesn’t really care about him, just his job. David was _David._ He shouldn’t care about David and his heart has been raging all day because of what the bastard of the man said. 

Don’t worry about me, he says. Sleep is important, he says.

David is a damn hypocrite and the man fucking knows it. Frustration makes his heart pound louder in his ears as the water moves around him, lulling him deeper into its depths. It’s still freezing cold, his body is shivering on reflex and he can register that he is curled into a small sad excuse of a child ball. Excuses, huh? That was a good reason for his existence.

Or at least that’s what his Dad said when Max was suddenly frozen in place with a brain-shaking punch to his jaw two years prior, dislocating his jaw. He didn’t make a sound then though. He let tears flow, but the only thing he allowed his mouth to do during that moment is smirk and spit out a tooth on the floor. It resulted in another lost tooth. 

Right, he was supposed to be thinking of David. He wants to scream in his mind, but he can’t because the only thing in there is--

 _Goddammit, it’s too fucking cold._ **_End it already. Fucking do it._ ** _Maybe you’ll finally stop being worthless. Cold, cold, cold._ **_It’s colder than the fucking basement. Lock yourself in the freezer next time._ **

Max hums inwardly at the thought and stores it in his suicide plans. 

 _David._ Max feels his chest start to ache from not breathing. David isn’t coming; why would he? Max is just another camper to him. Another person to rant to despite not having anything to rant about because his life was so fucking _perfect._ He didn’t have to deal with what he dealt with and that was fine. Max hates people, but he never wanted people to experience his life. 

He wants to let someone know, but not in the way that he just did. He can only remember snapping in anger ( _how fucking dare he, fuck you, fuck you,_ **_FUCK YOU_** ) at David for being so _blessed_ and _lucky_ to exist so obliviously to the outside world. David knows that nobody cares about the camp, yet isn’t aware that Max doesn’t give a shit about him.

_Wrong, wrong, that’s wrong._

Max can only assume that’s why his voice suddenly started to waver and he stuttered, trying to make out words. David liked to compare people; it was no surprise to him that the man immediately sought him out as his other half. One part of Max snarled in disgust. The other gave a small smile and stayed silent. The anger was still there though and he used it to bash on the man.

David didn’t really offer any other emotion to him other than worry and realization. Max wished he had a greater effect on people. 

Whenever he talked about bad qualities in a person, his mind goes to his parents first. He knows them the most and he’s never found anything good about them, so it was easy to pick out all the juicy bits and secrets. The only _decent_ thing they’ve done is feed him, clothe him, and teach him that the world isn’t as happy like they are in books. That was why he didn’t hesitate on comparing David to his parents and seeing how _he_ liked it.

It didn’t work. David was too nice to him so his mind backfired. His mind was cruel to him and when he said that David was just like _them,_ it showed what _they_ had done to him. His stomach suddenly felt empty like many times before, his tears rolled down his face from heart-lurching dreams, numb panic filling his bone marrow until it threatened to chip from relentless rage and the childish desire that it would get better. 

He panicked and he cried and he let David see, because that was the real world. Though a small part of him said that David was still here for him. He didn’t want to believe that.

Max shuddered when he noticed that the numbing in his fingers was slowly turning into losing feeling. He could feel water touching his lips and experimentally he opened them slightly. Murky, freezing cold water shot down his throat and he choked violently, eyes snapping open at the force. The water is blurry and a disgusting dark blue-grey underneath the dark twilight surface. His lungs are burning for air and he’s suddenly scrambling.

“ _David!_ ” He screamed, but all it does is send more water in his mouth and a deeper set of panic in his mind as he tries to control his breathing without _fucking breathing._ He looks around, but his body is struggling to keep his eyes open from the reflex to close them in the water, seeing if he was up or down. Max feels something brush against his leg, slimy and lurching, and he pulls his leg to his chest again. “ _David, please!_ ”

It’s all around him, surrounding and crowding his mind until the only thing left is: Isn’t this what you wanted?

He feels a frantic tug on the back of his hoodie and there’s something solid and close that’s holding him. Max grabs it and holds on tight and doesn’t even register that he’s above water until he can suddenly hear again. He can hear a voice and soothing hand patting his back when he collapses onto damp dirt surrounding the lake and hacks up lake water. There’s a distant pounding in his ears when his throat is empty and he takes greedy gulps of air. 

“Max! Max, oh my god, are you okay? You just fell through. You sunk really fast for t - twenty seconds but...oh god.” David’s panicked voice is saying, shaking and high-pitched with anxiety. Max coughed to clear his throat, shaking his head to try and dislodge the water stuck in his ears. It’s even colder now. His body doesn’t feel like it’s moving from how fast he was shivering.

“Crap, you’ll freeze out here...C’mon, w - we have to get somewhere warm.” David muttered and reached out. Max looked up and _those_ eyes stared back at him again. He scrambled back from him, gulping. The man hesitated. “Max, Max listen to me. You’re okay; you’re going to be okay, but right now we need to _go_.”

 _Okay, I hear you,_ his brain shouts but there’s a big part of it that cries. That part is saying, _You look like him. It’s the eyes. It’s always the eyes._

And that part screams and makes Max struggle when David picked him up and started to jog in the direction of camp. Max doesn’t know how to feel and it _hurts._ David was carrying them both to safety, mumbling reassuring words under his breath. The childish side of him was heavily expecting the man to just drop him and deliver an onslaught of trauma.

Be it physical or emotional; doesn’t matter, he was expecting it. 

“G - Go,” he managed to gasp out, trying to worm his way out of David’s arms, “L - Let go!”

“Max, calm down. It’s David. It’s not your dad, it’s not your mom, it’s _me._ ” The ginger said. “Breathe.”

“O - O - Off!” Max snapped. He feels like a child again. He _is_ a child, but he’s never truly felt like one. He doesn’t want to be hurt today. There’s too much cold, and there’s too much air, and there’s too much of him not wanting David’s help. Max tried telling himself to grow the fuck up now, but he hardly understands the phrase. He’s stammering like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and he hates that immensely. David doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll let you go when we get to the cabin.” David said firmly, adjusting Max so the boy’s face was on his shoulder. Max shook his head and pushed him again but it hardly did anything to stop him. “ _Max._ ”

“I d - don’t want y - your fucking help, Dav - David.” He insisted. His clothes are soaking wet and clinging to his cold skin; he closes his eyes for a moment, sees white, then snaps them open unsteadily. _I’m really cold though…_ he thought.

“You may not want help, but you definitely need it. We both do,” he adds in a softer voice. 

“I - I don’t need--” Max started.

David stopped moving and _glared_ at him. “Max, I don’t give a _shit_ about what you want or need in this situation. I’m trying to make sure you’re safe and you trying to stop me is not helping in any way. So, you keeping quiet and not moving would definitely help me out. Thanks.”

Max stopped and looked away. The man continued on his fact trek back to campgrounds and Max’s teeth started clicking. David had gone in to retrieve him, so he was cold too. He grabbed his index finger and jerked it backwards. There wasn’t much feeling except for a dull ache and he flexed his numb fingers. 

Shitty behavior was stopped by David swearing once again. 

He tried not to fall asleep along the way back. Being jostled only slightly and held in such a nonchalant, relaxed way made his eyes want to close. Every time his eyes closed for longer than ten seconds, David snapped him out of it. By the fifth time, and when Max stammered out the question of why, David answered, “It’s better to have you awake when we get you some warm clothes, bud.”

 _Bud._ Max hummed at the nickname and acquiesced. When Max first spotted the golden glow of the cabin, he offered a weak smile. “I - I’ve never be - been more happy to see that h - hunk of shit in my life,” he said.

“Great.” David said, opening the door to the cabin. “Gwen! I need some help!” 

The woman, who was on her bed and reading a magazine, looked over in irritation. “David, I told you that your socks are-- _Jesus christ_ ,” her eyes landed on Max and she stood up, shocked, “what the fuck happened?”

“F - Fell in the lake, you d - dumb bitch.” Max coughed. Her expression hardly shifted when she walked over to them both. “I - It wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that you’re fucking freezing.” She hissed, before snapping her eyes up to David’s panicked ones. “You--get in the bathroom and change your fucking clothes _right_ now. Give me Max.”

“You sure--?”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed. Max was wordlessly passed into Gwen’s hands and he grimaced at the stark contrast of temperatures he succumbed to. “Good. Bathroom, now.” she ordered. David didn’t need telling twice. When the bathroom door clicked shut after David hurriedly got some clothes, she rounded on him, but not in a mad way. More worryful. “I’m not going to ask what happened or why you are out this late just yet, but this subject is not over, kid. Come on.”

She let him onto the ground near her bed, not that it helped much because Max can’t convince himself to move. “David! Toss me a towel.” she said. The bathroom door opened slightly and a white towel flew out of it to land in Gwen’s hand. 

“If y - you touch me, I - I’ll call the cops.” Max said blandly.

“I can’t tell if that’s a joke or not, but I definitely was not planning on it. Listen, you can’t just dry off your clothes and then expect it to be a job well done. I’m giving you some clean and warm clothes. I’ll even look away.” Gwen rolled her eyes, but turned away from him and went to her dresser after handing him the towel. “Are you one of those weird people who prefer a certain color or fabric with clothes? Well, too bad, I’m giving you a pair of shorts and a shirt thing. Both are fucking red so suck it up.”

Max messed with the hem of his hoodie, frowning uncomfortably. “Red? D - Didn’t peg you to like red.” He muttered, looking down. His socks and shoes were wet and it was the worst feeling in the world so far.

“I don’t. There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about me, Max. Hurry up and dry up.” Gwen said, retrieving a far too large creamy red sweatshirt and a crimson red pair of basketball shorts. Dear god, those will look awful on him.

“You don’t h - have anything gre - green or blue?” Max asked lightly. 

Gwen paused at that. “Not anything for you to wear, why? Favorite color?”

He gave a shaky grunt and tugged off his hoodie and then his shirt, trying not to wince from how sticky the fabric seemed. “Whatever…” Max ducked his head and eventually sat on the floor as he took off his shoes and socks. He didn’t really like talking about his interests. Definitely not stupid things like that. Maybe it was because one of those colors were David’s favorite and he can’t really accept that. Not yet, at least.

When he was still cold and notably less clothed, he set to drying himself off while glaring at the wall. He was grateful Gwen didn’t try talking to him, and instead went back to whatever magazine she was reading. The cabin was quiet except for the ruffling of clothes on his part and pages turning. It was civil; that’s what Max would describe it as. 

“Dude, it doesn’t take this long to get undressed. And I’m a woman with body issues.”

Scratch that.

“Fine! G - Give me the fucking clothes th - then.” Max said. He did not expect is for the clothes to land on his face, covering his sight in red and making him smell a distant scent of cinnamon. It wasn’t too bad. He put the clothes on and stared unimpressively when the bottom of the sweatshirt reached the bare start of his ankles. At least the shorts had strings so he could tighten them properly. “I’m done.”

Her eyes went to his own and stayed there. “Are you okay? Feel super cold still?” She asked.

Max rubbed his arm and frowned. “Cold, y - yeah. Pretty sure I got some water in my lungs, but...okay.” He offered. Gwen exhaled in relief and he allowed his head to tilt. “Why do you care?”

“Well, I _do_ surprisingly care about you. It’s also part of my job and seeing David sad is not comfortable.” She said. Max narrowed his eyes, but couldn’t find a hint of dishonesty. That made him squirm slightly and look away. “Want some tea?”

Guilt sparked through him when he remembered that he tossed the mug into the lake. “Yeah, sure.” Max watched her stand again and go over to a kettle (how did he not notice that?), looking around momentarily. “Uh, am I going back t - to my tent, or…?”

“Definitely not.” David’s voice cut out from the bathroom as it opened. He was dressed in a black tee with shorts and Max had to rub his eyes because the colors looked so foreign on his body. Max didn’t look into the man’s eyes, still shaken, but then David smiled and they naturally trailed up to see if it was real or fake. Somewhere in between. “You okay, Max?”

He wanted to lie to him. Something in his gut told him that David shouldn’t really know the truth. He doesn’t feel okay. He’s still pretty cold and he felt claustrophobic in clothes too big for him to wear. Max clenched his fist, and was expecting to feel Mr. Honeynuts resting in it. “Can I go g - get something from my tent?”

“No.” Huh. Wasn’t expecting that. David’s face is still fixed in the same smile, but his eyes turned a bit curious. “Why? Do you need to get something?”

 _What I need is a good night’s sleep which I can’t get without Honeynuts, you fucking pinecone._ Max thought. He doesn’t think that David really knows about that though, so he turns to Gwen, who is stirring something in a small cup. “Gwen. I need the thing.”

“‘The thing’,” she hummed, looking over in amusement. “That’s vague. What things do you need that you expect me to know by code name?”

Max flushed a bit and held up his hands and made a grabbing gesture. “ _The thing._ ”

“Ooooh. Okay.” Gwen snickered a bit, yet nodded and set the cup down. “I’ll go and get it. David, how about you put on a nice movie for us to watch, huh? I think we need it.”

The man looked at her. “It’s pretty late, Gwen. I think we should--”

“Something Disney or Don Bluth, will you?” Gwen ignored him as she moved past Max and left the cabin. Max rubbed his hair, groaning inwardly when he noticed how damp it was and how god awful it would look and feel tomorrow, and turned to David.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose but muttered quietly to himself as he went over to his side of the room. “So,” Max started awkwardly, rubbing his arms. “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t think I can be mad at you anymore.” 

That made Max look down guiltily. 

 _Apologize,_ his mind muttered tiredly. So he did.

“I didn’t mean for you to, uh, see me like that. Or to cry and some shit. Or to fall in. Or vent.” He rushed out. “It was really shitty, and I’m a shitty person. I was just really mad that you thought that you understood me completely, a - and it wasn’t the case. You were just doing your job. I guess I’m sorry.” The last words came out in a bare whisper that he was sure David wouldn’t be able to hear it. 

Max didn’t look up and he didn’t have to, because the next thing he knew, he was being pulled into a hug and he just let it happen. David smelled like he always has, pine and a scolding campfire, and he felt a little warmer than himself. Max slumped into his hold, sighing with exhaustion.

“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry again, okay, Max?” David said softly.

“Okay.”

* * *

**IT didn’t take** too long to go and get Max’s teddy bear. She personally thought it was a little weird to root around for it, but she checked under the pillow first and it was lying there. Thankfully, Neil was a heavy sleeper, so he didn’t wake up when she nearly busted her ass when she almost tripped over a rock. Gwen spotted Quartermaster along the way and exchanged some words; she told him that Max would stay with them for the night, and he replied that it was probably for the best.

Whatever that meant.

As she walked back to the cabin, her eyes lowered to the teddy bear in her hands. It was small and worn down and dirty. Its fur, which was presumably a golden honey yellow, was now a yellow-brown mix that reminded her of honey mustard. One of its eyes were gone, but the other was dark and made of wood. She stared at it suspiciously before turning her attention to the small rips on its ear and leg. 

For some reason, it reminded her of the small doll from _Mulan_ and she felt emotional. It also reminded her of _David,_ but that’s probably because it caused a comfort for Max even though he wouldn’t outwardly admit it. She knew far too much about them.

Too much about Max’s family life; too much about David’s mental state. Both were crumbling, but she didn’t want to leave them like that. Gwen has seen people who didn’t have a foundation to lean on. She has _been_ a person who didn’t have a foundation to lean on. It wasn’t fun, thinking you’re hopeless and that nobody can help you, because what do they know?

Gwen found David and the rest of the campers, and thoughts like that weren’t appearing as frequently and she couldn’t be more grateful. She only wished that it had some sort of airborne affect to other people. She opened the door to the cabin and peeked inside. 

David was on his bed, cross-legged and a blanket wrapped around him. The television was rolled onto his side of the room and was going through the intro of _All Dogs Go to Heaven._ The man looked over when she came in and smiled at her. There was a wild shuffle and Max poked his head out from behind David and Gwen nearly dropped the stuffed animal when she spotted him balled into the dark green blankets that belonged to David.

Max took a long sip from his tea cup and then narrowed his eyes at her. “Not a word.”

“Got it.” She said, walking over and handing him the bear. David blinked in astonishment when Max snatched it and held it to his chest, curling back into his nest of blankets. “You started the movie without me?”

David looked apologetic. “Sorry, Gwen.”

“It’s fine, David. Scoot over, you toothpick fuck.”

Max huffed tiredly. “I was gonna use that insult.”

“Get your own, kid.” Gwen smiled as she snagged one of the free blankets and pulled it around herself. They went silent again as the movie continued. Max looked confusingly sorrowful when Charlie and Itchy were tricked yet again and burst into a quiet smile when they came up victorious. When that movie was done and the sky was turning a faint blue, she offered to show him Toy Story while David was knocked out and slumped against her shoulder.

“I don’t think I ever watched that before.” He muttered. Gwen blinked in amazement before she remembered _why._

“Do you want to watch it?” She asked. Max messed with the good leg on his bear for a moment, calculating.

“Sure.”

“Okay Max.”

A platform can crumble, even if it has one foundation. Maybe they could all hold each other up.


	6. first come first serve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't like it when it's in or around someone's eyes. There's...There's a difference."
> 
> "Wow. How do you deal with Nikki?"
> 
> "That's mint," he frowned, unsure why she was even asking this. Why was he answering these stupid questions?
> 
> "Green, but it's lying," Gwen insisted, and then, to herself, "fucking mint."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead? My muse went awol for far too long, but now it's back with renewed vigor. Enjoy the chapter and sorry for the slow update, please forgive me-
> 
> this chapter is very dialogue centered, just fyi

“Good morning, Campers!”

Max watched the cabin doors close as David left and then turned his head to Gwen. The woman is at her cluttered desk, a small journal in front of her and a pen in her hands that are deaf to a possible call of “stop”. He doesn’t understand the reasoning of why he was here. Shouldn’t he be outside with the other campers?

Max opened his mouth.

“Alright, we need to talk,” said Gwen in a tone that suggested no arguments were to be had. Her pen finally rolled from her hands and laid motionless on her desk when she spun to face him. There was a tired look in her eyes. “Make yourself comfortable, we’re going to be here for a while.”

His lips formed a grim line of reluctance. He knew they were contractually obligated to be this caring, but it still felt really strange. Max shifted gently on David’s mostly made bed, a thin blanket wrapped around him and Mr. Honeynuts against his chest with an iron grip. Once he was sure he was comfortable, in a physical sense, Max nodded and directed his eyes past her and to the wall.

He never likes looking people in the eye anyway and he is glad that Gwen continues speaking while noticing that.

"What happened last night? Or...early morning, I guess. David didn't tell me much other than that you sort of lost it, fell in the lake, and threw my mug in the lake. Not in that set order." She said it like a joke, but Max didn't laugh. Realizing this, she didn’t do the normal thing and awkwardly laugh and change the subject. She kept going. “Take your time explaining, Max. We can stay here all day.”

Maybe _she_ was the reason he was being so willing to do this. David made him feel like he was walking on a tightrope while Gwen was something similar to ice. Still scary to tread on, but easier to maneuver. It's easier to slip, and fall, and hurt though. The thought made him smile, but he wasn’t sure how appealing it was.

Max doesn’t want to explain. Not really, anyway. He ducked his head again, flipping Honeynuts over and gently squeezing the bear. Some kids his age imagine their stuffed animals having voices. Voices that would reassure. Voices that would encourage. Voices that would support.

All he can hear in his mind when he stares into Honeynuts‘ eyes is…

 _You’re an idiot for letting them find out. You’re a failure for breaking._ **_You let him see._ **

Max flips the bear back to face Gwen and hopes that she doesn’t know the sudden bead of sweat lining his hairline. He wants to leave. He wants to go home, but that’s nowhere in his mind. Where _would_ he go? He shouldn’t be here, talking about his problems with an adult. He’s tried for one day. He bit two people that day and he was shoved downstairs in the basement for a week for wasting their ‘hard-earned’ money. 

He licked his lips now, somewhat horrified when he can taste warm iron when he realizes it’s from his split lip. Gwen cleared her throat, making his head go up again. Too fast to not appear anxious. She has a frown on her face, but it’s not one of pity. Empathy. An emotion he’s never been able to swallow down. 

His mouth still tastes like lake water and it instinctively dries up.

"Yeah, I figured nice wasn't going to cut it," Gwen stated after a while. "You're nervous."

"I'm not."

"You're nervous. I can see it, Max. I practically _own_ being nervous." She slouched forward again and Max leaned backward at the same time. Far too close, far too fast. "Was it a breakdown?"

That stirs something in him. It doesn't feel like much of anything, but if he had to say, it'd be Red. It _feels_ red—bloody, elegant, violent. His eyes harden; resolute. "Who cares?" 

"Depends," Gwen said, which makes him falter. "What was it about, Max? I want to help you out."

"Are you _sure_ you got your therapeutic diploma legally?" Max grunted.

"Barely. They had me practice on a child younger than you and they weren't _you_. They haven't seen shit. The kid was just having some issues at school." She gestured to nothing and tuned all her focus onto him like he was a sparkly diamond; a new car; a pile of money; a new radio podcast—

Worth something.

"Nobody is you. Not even yourself, Max. I got my diploma talking to kids and adolescents who hardly felt emotional pain and trying to force myself to empathize. I was a therapist to a war vet at some point, Max," she had a hooked look in her eyes. One Max has always noticed, but this was deeper. Pulling and tugging; relentless with its purple rope. "She was traumatized. _She's_ seen things. She had a service dog with her—an adorable Akita mix—and when I asked what the dog's job was she said, 'PTSD, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Support'. And she paused,"

Max leaned forward a bit, tugged in.

"'Also because I always wanted a dog and I had nobody in my life to buy me one'." Gwen smiled. Max only offered a snort, shaking his head in suppressed amusement. She lost the smile soon though, growing serious once more and making Max back up, releasing her rope. "I saved her, Max. I cared. She has two kids and a happy husband and that service dog is just a _dog_ now.

"I want to save you too." 

Max can feel his wariness. It's in his bone, carving out the marrow and in his heart, digging a nail in with a hammer. It's in him and it wants to trust Gwen. Gwen and her admirable ability to not care. That's what he knew Gwen for. She doesn't care and is only consciously choosing the best people to be civil with. 

But then his mind bangs on the basement door, calling out for someone to let him out, and his mind screams something red, red, _red._

"You don't _want_ to." He said roughly, looking away. "You feel like you need to because David's being pissy and you don't want to listen to that."

Gwen scoffed and his eyes move back to her. She's unamused, shaking her head. "What would you know about want?" she asked rhetorically, eyes moving to David's bed momentarily—her eyes got soft—before meeting his yet again. "Don't talk to me about feelings, Max, when you're having trouble with your own."

Max swiped his tongue on his lip again, tasting iron, and said, "Fuck off."

The most he can do in this situation.

"I want to help you, Max. I've seen you sad. You _know_ I've seen you like this." 

Max remembered Parent Day, yes. He remembered the calm atmosphere of the pizza parlor and he has a sudden craving for cheese. He remembered the two of them, David and Gwen, not talking about it from there, making their own memories. They didn't want to talk about his parents, they didn't want to talk about 'why'. They ignored his entire built-up persona so he could only express what they didn't see:

A sad, little ten-year-old. Or maybe they saw something else. Something they wanted to see. Max glowered.

"You've seen me cry, so what? You've never seen me break." There's an unmatched and cynical bravado in his words.

"David has," Gwen pointed out immediately without breaking eye contact. "He saw you throw a tantrum and not let him touch you to get away from all of that. He saw."

Max swallowed down something vile and didn't need to look at Mr. Honeynuts to know the bear was snarling in his head. Both were saying 'he saw', but in a different way. Gwen meant it into a relating term. David saw and therefore it'd be a matter of time before Gwen saw too. 

His bear twisted the words. David was never supposed to see. Never supposed to hear. David wasn't even supposed to _be_ there. Max should've walked away when he had the chance. Screamed his stupid frustration at a stupid pine tree in the stupid forest.

David basically was a pine tree, however. It'd be the same thing.

"He wasn't supposed to," he muttered, distracted by his anger. It swirled in his stomach, addled by his thoughts. His distrust is supposed to be there to be angry at lies, not solemn with truths. "Nobody was supposed to. I was going to get over it that night and then David showed his pale ass."

"You blame David?"

"I blame everyone, fucking idiot," Max stated. 

"Even yourself?"

He barked out a dry laugh. "First come first serve."

Gwen sighed and held her hands together, thumbs working over her knuckles. Calculating.

"Max. Why did you freak out like that? I know you were mad, but David triggered it. The second he spoke, you snapped." She leaned forward again, trying to extend her rope. Max stared. "How does he trigger you?"

Something finds his heart at that moment and brings some color into it. "Eyes." He could feel regret slosh over him. He shouldn't have said anything. Max gave a choked sound that Gwen doesn't seem to notice, ranting inwardly at himself. 

"Eyes?" The rope shook and pulled back in surprise. "What about 'em?"

"Just...eyes."

"Is it the color?" Gwen hummed in question.

"David. David has his eyes too. I almost do." Max said coldly, drawing his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his messy, messy, messy hair, fizzed and fucked from the water before opening them again. He needs to keep his mouth shut.

Gwen didn't relent. The rope dangled in front of him urgently; she needed Max again. Needed him to hang on to her every word. "Your Dad?"

"Right," Max breathed shakily. Suddenly, he felt hot. Suffocating. He wasn't supposed to talk about them _normally_ outside of the home. Inside, either. He checked over his shoulder and then around the room. 

"What about your mother's eyes?" Gwen asked. He stilled and tried to recall. It's been so long since he's seen them and they weren't dazed, bloodshot from drugs or closed, unconscious. Trying to forget something unimportant. Like her son.

"...Black."

"Black?"

" _Black._ " He hissed. "Gwen, I can't—"

"Yes, you can." She snapped. "David has his eyes, so what. They're not attached to the same person." 

"You don't fucking understand."

She shook her head and the rope did the same. "It's not my job to understand perfectly. David is not your Dad. Won't be. Can't be. You don't have any reason to be afraid of him, Max."

She said it like it was simple. Like it would be so easy for him to just forget and ignore. Max shot up and bared his teeth, animalistic. He wants back on the dock. The dock was sturdy, it kept him grounded, it kept him sane with its constant noise.

He quickly disagreed though, remembering slowly that he fell in when he was at his worst. _Sturdy in...certain areas._ Max allowed. "It's not that easy. You don't have to deal with him." He said.

"The only time I will and be willing to is when he comes here so we can duke it out," Gwen said smoothly. "I can throw a mean right hook."

 _So can he,_ Max recounted almost immediately, but he bit down his words and shook his head. "David is annoying, but he doesn't trigger me. It's only his eyes."

"Negative associations can lead to Panic Attacks," said Gwen, before a softer look entered her expression. "But you _like_ that color too."

"I don't like it when it's in or around someone's eyes. There's...There's a difference."

"Wow. How do you deal with Nikki?"

"That's mint," he frowned, unsure why she was even asking this. Why was he _answering_ these stupid questions?

"Green, but it's lying," Gwen insisted, and then, to herself, "fucking mint."

"Why are you telling me this stupid shit?" 

"To distract you, Max. You broke and you outed yourself harder than you wanted to. I can tell you're hating yourself right now, but maybe letting one of us see was a good thing." Gwen said. 

Max's fingers brush the rope and he holds it, eyes downcast. "It's never a good thing."

"It's a good thing you let someone like David see," she said. "I think so, anyway. He's never had issues as you have to my knowledge. He wants to understand because he sees a little of himself in you. You're both so different and he wants to help you just as much as I want to."

"He's doing a piss poor job at it." Max said. 

"Maybe."

He sighed. "I hate this place."

"Better than home."

He couldn't argue, so he just stood up. "Can I leave?" 

"Stay away from the lake," said Gwen. 

Max frowned and looked back at her. She was watching him closely, trying to jostle him back with her addictive eyes. "...Will you tell?"

"I have no reason to. Come back at any time."

His eyes harden. "I won't."

"You will eventually. Everyone needs help," she turned back to her desk and began writing again. The pen scratched across the paper loudly in the sudden silence. 

Max left the cabin with Gwen's rope with him in his hands. He wasn't sure if he should turn it into a noose or not.

* * *

He was never good at following directions. He was at the dock now (it creaked at him when he stepped on it; it sounded apologetic if anything), staring out into the lake with nothing in his stomach other than empty thoughts. Spooky Island was boring during the day. There was no moon filtering itself through the leaves and there were no red-and-blue lights there to focus on. Max was still wearing David's stupid clothes but he was too tired to care.

Too tired of everything.

Max released a drawn out sigh, rubbing his face.

"That didn't sound like a sigh meant for a kid like you."

It was a familiar voice, but it still made Max tense up. He didn't want to turn to his side so he just grabbed onto his clothes harder. He could see a figure in the distance and he closed his eyes.

"...For someone who didn't talk just then, you sure seemed annoyed."

Max turned and spotted a half translucent boy beside him, about his age. "...Casper?" He questioned, brows knitting together.

"Jasper, actually," the boy laughed. He was still wearing what they all saw him in last; orange shirt, weird shorts, shoes too big for his stupid ass feet. "Close though. What's wrong, Max? Where's Nikki and Neil?"

Why was the ghost _here?_ Max thought ghosts moved on after fulfilling their purpose or some shit like that. Then again, Max didn't tell David what he already knew. He frowned. "They're not here. Why are you, though?"

"Ghosts can come and go as they please," said Jasper. "'Moving on' is basically finding another place to exist. Or another person."

"Do you have the same idea about relationships?" Max huffed. There was a small cluster of pebbles and rocks by the lake shore, his interest peaked gently. He had nothing else to do for the rest of the day. He made a move to hop off the dock and carefully picked a few up. They were grainy and wet. A few had small worms squirming between them; Max had half the mind of chucking them into the water, but he's done too much damage already and just chucked them into the woods. 

"Not really. Remember, I'm technically, like, eight." Jasper said, watching as Max walked back into the wooden platform, noting how the boy glared at the random hole in the boards. "Some people move on, some don't. It just depends, I guess. Ghosts like to bother people. Be around them for entertainment."

"Then why are you at Spooky Island where Quartermaster has his weird old people orgies?" Max asked, giving a shudder at the recall. God, he'd rather go back to his parents' place than see that ever again. 

Jasper paused, watching as the boy raised a rock and then chucked it. It didn't skip, but Max didn't even have that intention. It made a funny noise when it dropped into the water and splashed a few decent feet away. "Hm. Good point. It's where I died, though. I wasn’t buried properly so here I am. Ghosts like to stay near where they died."

"Why?"

Jasper blinked at him and Max felt unnerved when he could see trees through his body. "Well, you like to be where you're safe or you know very well. It's like a locked gate. It keeps you there. You can reach out a little bit, but you're still stuck. That's of course counting if we aren't cast away or at peace. Something like that."

"You make that sound more depressing."

"Maybe. Everything is depressing though, kid." 

"Don't call me Kid, we're basically the same age," sighed Max, tossing another. 

"I'm older mentally."

"You sure?"

"Well, book smart wise. Everyone at this camp has some sort of mental illness, I'm certain of it." Jasper kicked his feet in the air, scratching at his hair. "You guys sure are depressing."

"Thanks."

"At least you aren't all a-holes." Jasper grunted. 

Max should've been offended because, yes, he _is_ an asshole. Jasper looked away, however, small fists clenching and a glare filled with sharp daggers at Spooky Island. "...'All'?" he echoed carefully. The Ghost nodded his head wistfully and then drifted up further into the air. 

“There’s only one person at this camp who isn’t really radical in the slightest and that’s Cameron,” said Jasper bluntly, laying on his back in the sky, hands tucked under his head. Max stared jealousy; it looked so natural and easy to do. He kind of wanted to do the same, rest amongst the sky. “He’s a manipulative wad.”

“That’s normal,” said Max, throwing in another. “That’s literally all he fucking lives for. He doesn’t care.”

“Like you do?” Jasper asked. His tone turned quiet and blue eyes moved to stare at him, questionably polite. The boy bristled at the question, unsure if it was accusatory. 

“I’m a bitch, but I’m not heartless,” he huffed in reply. “Cameron could die in front of me and I’d step all over him. He’s an idiot. A _racist_ idiot.”

A brow shot up. “He’s racist?”

“I think he’s a Nazi deep down inside,” Max frowned. Jasper blew out air out of his mouth, wincing at nothing before turning over and looking down at him properly. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“Probably the same reason as you,” the ghost said simply. Max grunted at that, fighting down a glare inwardly. People didn’t know him. People don’t understand.

But he’s not in the mood to scream and cry and bitch again.

“And what reason would that be?” he said instead, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. Jasper doesn’t seem to notice the threat under it.

“Well, David. How he uses him.”

His metaphorical teeth sink back under his lip and a tongue layered with lies swipes over them in preparation. Max ran a hand across his forehead, tapping his temple if he heard that correctly. There’s a deep movement in his mind—a shift that makes his eyes blink rapidly before rolling up to Jasper. The shift makes him suddenly mad.

He wants Cameron gone.

“I don’t even _like_ David. He is a bitch to him though. He’s a bitch to all of us. To everyone, now that I think about it.” He looked down at the rock in his hand and scowls at the sudden pill bug (Pill Bug was such a stupid name. It looked like a pill, but the proper name in his head would always be Roly-Poly. Cute, in these trying times) on his palm. It curled up with his pulse and he promptly picked it up and moved it elsewhere before chucking another rock. “Those foreign kids really proved that. Except for Brian. Fuck Brian.”

Jasper was nice enough to look confused at the names, but ignored that and focused intensely on him. “You don’t think you like David?” he asked, bewildered.

“I _know_ I don’t. Dude, he’s one of the most annoying people in the world. He...He’s confusing.”

“You just don’t know him, bro.”

“You’ve been _dead_ longer than I’ve been alive! I think I have more experience with reading people.”

“Mentally Twenty-Four right here,” Jasper laughed, moving back down in front of Max, drifting just above the lake. Max glared and threw a rock at him, annoyed with it phased through the boy. “Us Ghosts can see things you can’t, Max. You see what you notice and what you want to see. Try seeing things from a ghost's perspective.”

He had a dark thought just then. “Are you telling me to kill myself?”

“Good Christ, no,” Jasper flinched back, eyebrows lowered hurtfully. “Never. I don’t want people to not move on, that wouldn’t be very gnarly of me, you know?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Totally.”

“I’m just saying that a new perspective wouldn’t hurt you.”

“That’s literally what being hurt is, mentally. Why do you think democrats and republicans aren’t really friends? Perspective. It keeps people safer in their heads.” Max said.

“I don’t remember wanting to get into politics.”

“Right, my bad. Ghosts can’t vote, can they?”

Jasper frowned. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Am I?” He scoffed. “Listen, I don’t need a new perspective to become a new asshole. Nobody is just going to get better because good is suddenly brought to light unless they’re, like, the kindest person ever. David’s still a pale ass piece of depressed white trash in any setting.”

There’s a sudden chill when Jasper tried to grab the collar of his hoodie, but it misses due to his own figure. Jasper’s baby blue eyes are suddenly livid and there’s a purposeful growl on his lips that makes Max take a few steps back on the dock—it groans in concern.

“ _That’s_ exactly what I’m talking about! You see what you _expect_ to see, dude! He’s more than that.” He said sharply.

“Oh, get your little bromance away from me. I don’t care. He’s hardly anything more,” said Max.

“Gosh, you’re _just_ like Cameron.”

Max turned his head like he was struck. “I am nothing like Cameron,” he breathed, closing his eyes. He can feel his heart start to pump just a little harder and he looked back at Jasper. “Don’t think for a second I’m anything like him. Cameron doesn’t see David as anything more than a tool. I see him as a depressed, sad, little camp counselor who doesn’t know how to help. There’s a _difference._ ”

“Who do you _think_ made David that way?” 

He blinked. “...What?”

Jasper pulled back from him, a cold look in his eyes. “And you say you’re smarter. It’s everything David knows. Cameron’s his vice, idiot. He’d do most anything for the dude. He’d take a bullet. He’d take a bomb. He’d probably take leaving this _job_ if Cameron said it was the right thing to do!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. “And he gets _squat_ in return! I’m the only one who’s noticed? Not even Gwen?”

It feels like when he fell in the lake. All his breath falls out of him and it’s replaced with a wet feeling like he’s about to cry again or scream about how much his parents didn’t care. Like when David pulled him out, panicked and sorry, and— 

And, and, and…

Fuck, he’s an idiot. Max flinched back, eyes lowering. No. It’s not _that_ obvious, right? There has to be something else other than being around other depressed people. Gwen was off the list; they were too close and Max felt that if the man had to choose between the two of them, he’d be stuck. David wasn’t as close to the other kids as he is with him…

_Why didn’t he notice sooner?_

“It’s seriously Cameron?”

“Think about literally every interaction you’ve seen David and that guy have.”

So he did. He thought about how David always turned a blind, unwilling eye to Campbell. Campbell readily blaming David for every single thing that went wrong. Trying to convince actual agents that it should be _David_ who should be going to prison, to pay for a crime he didn’t commit and probably get stabbed on his first day for trying to become friends with a serial killer. 

How Cameron seemed so betrayed when David finally took a small stand against him like he was never expecting it. Cameron's probably just trying to be a 'better person' so he could gain a little more of David's trust before breaking it again. His whole thing that ‘failures lead to greatness’ when they were burying time capsules was shit. 

Max’s face must have turned red from his hidden aggression because Jasper crossed his arms knowingly. “He’s got him brainwashed. He’ll believe everything the man says, Max. That’s why David still believes I just went back to my parents, right?” he asked.

He huffed. “Right. Sorry about that, I guess. He just seemed really upset just from him believing that you left.”

“You didn’t want him to start crying?”

“I didn’t want him to be more depressed than he already was, actually.” Max muttered. Jasper hummed, momentarily astonished. “But...he _knows_ right?”

Jasper sighed. “I wouldn’t know fully. I try to visit him a lot but I give him nightmares sometimes and I don’t want that. I say he acknowledges it, but…” he hesitated and then he turned again, groaning. “ _Dang it, Davey_. He knows but he thinks it’s fine.”

“Sad, little, camp counselor,” Max repeats. He dropped the remaining rocks and pebbles into the lake and rubbed his hands together. “So, just get David over Cameron?”

“And tell him about me, too, if you could. I’d appreciate it.” Jasper adopted a smile. “You’re not that bad, Max.”

“Fuck off,” Max grunted, hissing through his teeth when a small, sharp pebble scraped against his middle finger, left over from the rock residue. He stuck it into his mouth with blood started to bead up, watching as Jasper started to drift off toward Spooky Island, singing a tone under his breath. “What’re you gonna do now, Casper?”

“Dunno,” said Jasper, dismissing the nickname. “Find some entertainment somewhere. Thanks for trying to save him.”

“I don’t _need_ to try,” he said, raising a brow.

“Ah, but he needs it,” Jasper smiled over his shoulder.

Max scoffed, letting crimson blood paint across his tongue when he bit down gently. _Like you know shit about wanting or needing to be saved,_ he thought lightly as Jasper soon disappeared.

* * *

He slammed open the counselors cabin during the end of lunchtime, too anxious to eat. Both of them were gone, but he did leave Mr. Honeynuts here which made him feel strange. Max hopped onto David’s bed and grabbed the bear, staring at it.

“You’re wrong, you know. Now I know who’s the culprit.” he said quietly.

The bear didn’t shift, leering at him with its eyes. 

Max groaned and shook it. “He shouldn’t have seen, but now I _know_. That’s what is important. I’m supposed to know." His fingers dug into the bear’s fabric roughly and his eyes closed again. 

He always felt like he didn’t like Campbell for some other reason than just being a money whore who didn’t really care for other people. He could understand how valuable money was and not caring about other people within reason was his entire thing, really. But being a _grown_ man and openly double-crossing people for benefit really stirred him.

Especially now that he knows that he’s fucking over David, who he’s even more _upset_ about. David saw the man as a father figure and that’s how he’s treated in reply— 

The cabin door opened and the adults walked inside, both chatting about something probably unimportant. Gwen spotted Max first, the slight smile on her face dropping immediately as she scanned him habitually. David turned at her shift in expression. “Hi, Max,” he said happily, brows raising at him. “We didn’t see you at lunch. You hungry? I have a few bags of trail mix—”

“Sorry, David, but that’s not a top priority at the moment,” Gwen said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Max? Where’d you go when we were done? You don’t look...pleased.”

_Shouldn’t have seen. Shouldn’t have been there. You fucked up—_

Max tossed his stuffed animal over his shoulder, ignoring the ping when it hit the floor on a side with buttons and hopped off the bed. “Why do you like Campbell even when he treats you like shit, David?”

David froze, mask slipping, and Gwen stilled, mouth forming a grim line and she eyed her coworker with uncertainty. Max didn’t want to look away, eyes peering into David’s shakily. He didn’t look like his father then; David seemed like he was a little kid when he exhaled and looked to the side, brows knitting together. A little kid just like Max was.

“Max, I don’t think that’s really appropriate to ask,” said David. 

That was the day David’s tone mirrored Gwen’s when she was done with talking to somebody. Cold, wary, a little bit of ‘leave me alone, but don’t stop noticing’ deep down in the vocal cords. Thankfully, Max is used to Gwen and extends the rope he’s kept with him from her.

“I want to help.”


End file.
